


.357 on the Nightstand

by Chebella1771



Series: a bump key [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Burglary, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fucked Up, Gen, Gun Kink, Hate Sex, M/M, Multi, Other, Possessive Kylo Ren, Robbery, Rough Oral Sex, The Author Regrets Everything, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Violence, where is this fic going
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-06-17 17:37:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15466590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chebella1771/pseuds/Chebella1771
Summary: One year after "the incident" and Rey is still reeling from being held against her will and allowing herself to come undone at the hand of a fucked-up criminal.Kylo is out for blood after a mission-gone-wrong and subsequent time in the big house.Both want revenge for a hellish year, and revenge comes in all sorts of violence and orgasms.Might not make sense without la prima installment.





	1. malfunction

**Author's Note:**

> thank you, thank you to those who enjoyed the first part of this little messed up tale. per your request: a sequel of sorts! I hope I'm not grasping for straws here, so let me know when it starts to get like taffy....

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

The Keurig was in her room.

 

 

Because for some _ungodly_ reason she still couldn’t fathom, she was the only one in the house that liked the taste of coffee.

 

 

It had almost been a deal-breaker when they’d signed the lease.

 

 

But it was nice, being able to roll out of bed, hit the button, and get dressed while the glorious aroma of coffee filled her bedroom. Not having to walk downstairs into the kitchen, fumbling through the cabinets, waking everyone up.

 

 

Currently, a steaming cup was draining into a glass, already halfway filled with bourbon and a shit ton of ice.

 

 

_Knock, knock._

 

 

“Rey?” She turned to face Poe as he pushed through the door. “Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

 

 

Rey scowled at him and downed the glass in a few gulps.

 

  
“Sorry. I’m just fading fast,” she said, looking at the digital clock. It read 11:48PM. Fuck, when did she turn _ancient_?

_“_ Come on, my little grandma,” Poe teased, guiding her by her shoulders and back into the hall, “Finn’s about to try and cut the cake, and you know we can’t trust him with a knife!” _God, they needed to hurry._

Rey snatched the butter knife from Finn just as soon as he picked it up. A series of laughs, hoots, and hollers sounded around them, all their friends recognizing her reappearance. Rey did a little curtsy and started to slice square after square of cake, plopping each one on a paper plate, provided by Finn. This was a good job for him.

 

 

Rey cringed as one piece fell on its side, smashing the perfectly swirled frosting flower. You’d think after a year of living here, they’d have proper knives and serving ware.

 

 

A year. _Jesus_ , time had practically hopped on the wicked witch’s bike in the sky and _flown_ _by_.

 

 

 

She’d graduated with her chemistry major, Finn with his degree in communications, a fucking _year_ ago. It truly was mind-boggling. On top of that, they’d both gotten job offers not long after receiving their diplomas and rented a fucking _house_! With Poe.

 

 

Because Poe and Finn were in love and fucking even more than they had been a year ago, but Rey was their very best friend, and she had….well, no one.

 

 

 

Rey looked around the living room, searching for an ounce of sobriety amongst her friends and co-workers. _Nada_. They were all tanked. She was trying to get there, truly, but her sleep-deprival was finally kicking her ass. That was fine. She didn’t really feel like talking at the moment anyway, even though she loved them all. Really. They’d all showed up tonight to celebrate her and Finn completing their first year at the Resistance. That had to mean something.

 

 

It’s just that she hadn’t felt she’d really _earned_ their camaraderie. After a year. She cringed. _It was dumb, still thinking like this._

 

 

 

Rey, for the millionth time, pushed away the feeling of being the charity case in this scenario. But if it walked like a duck and quacked like a duck….

 

 

 

Poe had felt so _bad_ for her. Fucking dweeb.

 

 

 

After _the incident_ , they’d called it.

 

 

 

“Rey!” he had cried into her neck, wrapping her in hug when he saw her. “Oh my fucking god, Rey! Let me look at you,” he’d said as he held her in front of him, scanning her for any nicks or scrapes. He was dark, tan from his trip to Miami, a slight sunburn evident around the lines from where he’d been wearing sunglasses. His hair was a little longer, more curly.

 

 

“I’m fine, Poe, really, it’s nothing-” she remembered trying, but he wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Her cheeks had a little yellow tinge to them from the healing bruises, but little past that.

 

 

“No! No. _Shit_. God, I’m so sorry Rey. This is my fault. Any way I can make it up to you, I will. Whatever you need, _anything_ , just let me know. Okay?”

 

 

Turns out she had needed a job. Finn, too.

 

 

They’d walked with their diplomas at the end of their summer semester, fucked around looking for employment for a few months, and then decided together sheepishly to go to Poe. Apparently nowadays, on top of completing four years of undergraduate study, you needed five fucking years of experience in every field on god’s green earth to gain an entry-level position.

 

 

That’s how she ended up with a paid internship at the Resistance in the biochemical division of aeronautics. In line for an _actual_ biochemist position. Finn was on his way to becoming one of the head guards of security.

 

 

Because they’d worked there for a fucking _year_.

 

 

Which meant it had been a little over a _year_ since _the incident_.

 

 

She tried not to think about it. It was easier now than it had been. But she still didn’t get much sleep, and the sleep she did get was of poor quality.

 

 

She blamed it on the discounted mattress she’d purchased before the move, the air being shy a few degrees from the perfect temperature, her Circadian rhythm being thrown off by the moonlight that gleamed from between her curtains.

 

 

 

At least now she _tried_ to sleep. Before, she would just stare. Stare at the _fucking_ ceiling. Not feeling anything, anything at all, just….staring.

 

 

 

Poe had bought her a .357 magnum after a few weeks of seeing her bloodshot, black-circled eyes. He’d told her she’d looked like shit. She’d believed him.

 

 

She took a few firearms classes, even went to the shooting range every other week. She started to hit the gym with the boys after work. Poe tried to get her to go to a psych, but she drew the line at therapy.

 

 

She knew she should go. To talk to someone about what had really happened. During _the incident_.

 

 

But also to talk about why her body wouldn’t work anymore. To talk about what was wrong with her. Because things weren’t the same and she fucking _hated_ it. She felt like a child. Or like one of those frigid bitches in the movies, who was being cheated on by her husband.

 

 

She’d watched so much porn over the past year. _So much porn_. And she hadn’t gotten off once. She’d picked up multiple graphic, erotic novels. Nothing. Ordered toys for her pleasure with raving reviews off Amazon. And no luck.

 

Her body was _broken_.

 

 

She’d stopped crying over it months ago.

 

 

Now she was just tired. But not as tired as before. And that was _improvement_ , goddamnit. Things were _normal_ now. And she really was lucky. People told her that, too.

 

 

She lived with her friends. She couldn’t hear them fuck, because _she_ had the only upstairs bedroom, which was at the opposite end of the house. She really did love her job, which let her work with one of the most influential chemical engineers of her time, Leia Organa-Solo. And she was safe, and alive.

 

And kept her .357 on top of her nightstand, angled at just the right position for her hand to grip in the dark. That’s what her firearms instructor had said to do.

 

 

 

Most of her friends had filed out of the house by now, either walking home or calling an Uber, and she found herself dead tired, feet propped up on the ottoman, empty glass in her hand. Finn and Poe walked by, each giving her a kiss on the head before stumbling into their own room.

 

 

Their place had three bedrooms, but the third was used as Bebe’s “princess cave”. Rey hadn’t cared enough to argue.

 

 

She climbed the stairs to her own room and went through her meager routine of washing her face, brushing her teeth, pulling on her oversized T-shirt for bed.

 

 

The alcohol and caffeine were swirling in her stomach. She was tired, but she knew better than to welcome sleep. It wouldn’t come so easily tonight.

 

 

A _fucking_ _year_.

 

 

She forced her eyes closed, braced herself for the impact. She let it happen for the first time in a long time.

 

 

 

_She had taken to jumping out of her skin whenever her cell would ring. A cold, heavy, feeling of dread pooling from under her ribs and into her stomach, like a solid block of ice. It was usually fleeting, and her heartbeat would normalize after she glanced down and recognized the name of the caller._

_One day she didn’t. Recognize the caller, that is._

_And the freezing drip inside her organs had continued until she found herself being led into a dim room, divided into two by a large pane of glass. A one-way mirror, she surmised. Through it, she could see a stark white wall with horizontal black lines running from top to bottom, the markings of inches and feet indicated on the left._

_She could do this._

_“Ma’am if you would just stand here,” he pointed to an X on the floor, “then we’ll bring the first group out.” The man conducting the line-up gave her a serious, almost pitying look after she’d stepped into place. “If you need to stop at any time during the procedure or would like to leave, please let us know. Ready?”_

_She wanted to fucking leave before she even came inside. Rey gave him a tentative smile and nodded her head._

_“All right, Carl, we’re good!”_

_Another officer, she could see through the glass, opened a door by the white wall and led five men out, single-file, until they all stood in front of her line of vision._

_She picked at her nails, keeping her head down, until her companion cleared his throat._

_Rey jerked her head up. Her heart was absolutely_ pounding _._

_She scanned their faces hurriedly, wanting to look away but unable to at the same time. They all had fair complexions, dark hair of varying lengths, and ranged from 5’7 to 6’6. All of the men wore white wife-beater tanks and jeans._

_None of them were him._

_“Take your time, miss. They suspect may or may not be present.”_

_“No. None of these,” she said confidently with a shake of her head. She didn’t need more time._

_The officer gave her a look she couldn’t place and shouted, “Next!”_

 

 

_She could feel the blood drain out of her face, her breath catch in her throat. He was the first one to walk out, stopping at the far left and crossing his arms over his chest, casually as fuck. Her mouth was dry._

_Her first thought was that she was fucking personally offended by how his physique looked in those fucking tanks. She could practically feel the muscles rippling behind her, holding her d-_

_She pinched the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t even looked at the other participants. Why did she need to?_

_He was the same as she had remembered, for she quite honestly couldn’t forget – who could, after a traumatizing experience like that? – and yet he was different too. For one, he had a faint scar over his right brow, the silver of it noticeable even from her distance. She felt a little smug. She'd marked him._

_His jet-black hair was still long, chin-length, but it wasn’t as shaggy. Instead it curled in waves around his face, curtaining his strong jaw and emphasizing those haunting, piercingly dark eyes._

_Eyes that bored into own. He was looking right fucking at her._

_Rey looked up accusingly at the office beside her. She was pissed! Was this a prank? Was she being Punk’d? One-way mirror her ass._

_She took a step off her mark, inching closer toward the glass. Locking eyes with this pompous bastard. His eyes were so dark. She could hear his voice in her head, feel the ghost of his hands on her face, her body. She shivered and ran her hands up and down her arms, trying to warm herself._

_One corner of his mouth lifted. It was almost imperceptible._

_“Him,” she ground out, gesturing toward the man who’d held her fucking hostage. The man she fucking hated, despised with every fiber of her being._

_Rey turned on her heel and walked out, the officer shouting behind her to wait, that there were a few more questions, but her feet didn’t stop._

She gasped aloud, free from the memory, eyes wide now in the quietness of her bedroom.

 

 

She noticed two things immediately. The first was that she had a thin sheen of sweat coating her forehead, which was by leaps and bounds more acceptable than the second.

 

 

Her right hand was nestled inside her underwear, her fingers sticky.

 

 

 _Fuck_ , she thought, ripping her hand away and wiping it off haphazardly on the sheets.

 

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked them away angrily. _What the fuck was wrong with her_? _Why_ was the only way she could _feel…._

She rolled onto her side, refusing to cry again because of him, and tried to clear her mind, to let sleep claim her. After a while, it did.

 

 

 

 

When she woke, it was still dark. But the moon, usually bright and brazen through her window, was blocked by a shape that rustled and crouched before her.

 

Dark eyes glittered.

 

Every hair on her body stood as a velvet voice tore through the night.

 

“Miss me, sweetheart?”

 

 

* * *

 


	2. see myself out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soooo, I'm posting this chapter wayyyyy past my bedtime without a thorough read-through, because smut. I'll edit soon if needed, but sorry in advance for shit mistakes. 
> 
> Anyway, THANK YOU for the amazing feedback on the first chapter. I hope you guys like this one...it's...uh....well, smut. Heh. OK BYE!

* * *

 

 

 

If there had been an allotment for time, Rey would have sent up a silent prayer to whoever was listening. She would’ve groveled, offered to make a deal with the devil himself instead of confronting the very one in front of her now.

 

She would’ve _pleaded_ for this moment to _please, please_ be a dream.

 

But shit, damn, mother _fuck_ – it wasn’t a dream. And there hadn’t been time to request such mercies.

 

Before she could even draw a breath, or _quickly_ shake the remnants of her first deep sleep in weeks, the hard outline of his body was pressed roughly against hers.

  
And fuck, he was _heavy_ , like a ton of bricks. His chest mashed against her breasts almost painfully, compressing her ribs, and his hips locked her own down into the softness of the mattress. It wasn’t a delicious feeling. At _all_.

 

Her long, tan arms up were forced up above her head ( _well, this was familiar, damnit!_ ), and he leaned in toward her, the heat of his body seeping through the comforter. Rey could feel a tendril of his raven hair release from his hood and brush against her neck.

 

“Hello again, little one,” he whispered against her skin, warm breath filling her ear. “Surpised to see me?” His hands, bare and rough, squeezed her wrists so tight she feared they might break. She made a noise in her throat, somewhere between a whimper and a growl.

 

“Get. Off.” She was grimaced, teeth bared. _How the fuck was this happening? Again?_ She had taken every precaution to avoid this, _this_ very scenario from happening. She had obsessed over it, had nightmares over it, over him somehow trapping her and _fucking breaking_ in, _anywhere_ , when she was there. She was on the second floor, _for fuck’s sake_!

 

Her eyes took in the open window briefly.

 

He clicked his tongue as if he were scolding a child.

 

“My little hellcat,” he grinned against her neck. She could feel his lips spread against her skin, feel the vibration of his words as he spoke. “I can’t do that. I’ve waited too long for this. Too,” his fists clenched around her again, “ _fucking long.”_

Rey was panting beneath his weight. She licked her lips and tried to wiggle her legs out from underneath him with no luck. He was going to fucking snap her _hands_ off.

 

“Do you think I forgot, little one?” He was muttering angrily, the low timbre of his voice coming in breaths. “Do you think I would forget you _snitching_? Coming in to rat me out, to tempt me in those fucking shorts again that barely covered your little ass?” She averted her eyes from his face, which was starting to become clearer now that her eyes were adjusting to the lack of light. He was too close.

 

“I saw you. I know it was you. I was there for six months, you little bitch, allll because of you,” he said as his nose traced the outline of her throat.

“Did you tell them?” he asked, and her blood chilled. She knew he wasn’t referring to the police. She would not look at him. She would _not_.

 

He was like a man possessed – drugged, even – rubbing his mouth and nose and face over neck and chest as he leaned over her like an animal as he spoke. She was lying down but she was starting to feel dizzy, to feel drunk. The heat and the weight and the smell of him – the feel of him – it was an overload on her senses.

 

“Did you tell them how you begged for me to fuck you?” He licked a wide, flat stripe against the column of her throat and fucking _moaned_. “You remember that, little one? _Please,”_ he mocked, and the word sounded so dirty leaving his lips. “Begging me not to stop.” She squeezed her thighs together. This was _fucking not_ going to happen again! What was he even fucking _doing_ here?

 

“Are you sorry?” he asked, nibbling the skin he’d just laved with his tongue. She didn’t know what he was asking. Sorry for allowing him to…defile her….or sorry for putting him in jail?

 

“You will be, I promise.” His teeth closed around her earlobe, dragging and raking over the sensitive flesh. “Ohhh, will you be sorry…” Okay, then. He had come to fucking kill her. Or full-on rape her. Something. He had come for _revenge_. But that was hers to motherfucking take.

 

Rey decided now would be as good a time as any to let out a blood-curdling scream-

 

One of his huge hands shot out to clamp over her mouth. Psycopath fucking _mind-reader._

 

But she recognized the opportunity.

 

With one wrist suddenly unbound and his balance shifted, Rey immediately put all of her might into throwing the man on top of her to the side, slinging her legs from beneath the covers and shooting out of bed.

 

He was just as fast, clambering behind her to wrap his muscular arms around her from the back, snaring her like a barbed wire fence. But tiny and quick in his grip, she spun and kneed him in the groin, _hard_ , watching as he crumpled in on himself to the floor.

 

The .357 magnum seemed to sparkle in her hands, her fingers gripping it tight, arms locked and extended so the gun barrel was pointing straight at his forehead.

 

This fucker was not going to ruin her life again.

 

He had the decency to look surprised through his lingering pain. Then he masked his face so that he seemed…..apathetic.

 

 

That fucking bothered her.

 

 

She thrust the metal of the gun closer and he fell back onto his hands.

 

She felt a sudden rush of power, seeing him sprawled beneath her, like the lowlife that he was. She wondered if he would do whatever she said. _She_ was captain of this ship now. _She_ was calling the shots. And fuck if that didn’t feel _good_ for what he’d put her through before.

 

“I’m impressed,” he smirked. God, she wanted to pistol whip that smug look off his face. “You gonna shoot me, hellcat? Go on, then, I’ll wait… ” His eyes forced her to not look away, taunting her. Cocky bastard. He had a _fucking gun_ pointed right at his dome and he was baiting her to shoot him???

 

He was a fucking idiot. Did he not think she could?

 

Because she could. She _would._ From her standing vantage point, she let her gaze linger over him, the huge bulk of him braced with his hands behind him on the carpet. _Her carpet_. In her _bedroom_.

 

Fuck, this was her house! Was she going to murder someone in her fucking house? She’d never sleep again.

 

Rey bent and re-straightened her arms, trying to find resolution. She stepped toward him, pressing the tip of the weapon into his skin. Her anger at her own indecision spewed forth, unable to be withheld.

 

“You piece of _shit_ ,” she whispered, trying to keep her voice low, “do you,” she swallowed, her throat like gravel, “do you _fucking know_ the hell you’ve put me through?” It wasn’t really a question. She was just letting him know.

 

His eyebrows furrowed together. Good, he was confused. But _fuck_ was he really that clueless? Didn’t he know how he’d traumatized her? How he’d ruined her for everyone else? She inched close, the magnum forcing him to lie on his back, that damn plush mouth still pulled up into a smirk.

 

She dropped to her knees astride him, the .357 unwavering.

 

“I couldn’t _sleep_. Couldn’t fucking _eat_ without looking over my shoulder. I had bruises for _weeks_ ,” she spat at him, her words leaving her in shaky bursts. “I still can’t-” Her rant stopped abruptly.

 

_I still can’t get myself off, haven’t had one fucking orgasm since you – …..Well, you._

 

Rey looked down at him, seeing if he had puzzled out what she’d almost said. His face was unreadable.

 

But then he spoke. “Can’t what, little one?” His eyes raked over her above him and she became horrifyingly aware that the sleep shirt she had chosen earlier barely covered her pink, cotton panties. She held his gaze when it drifted back to her face. His once-over told her _everything_.

 

He knew.

 

His expression tugged into a lazy grin.

 

She could make out his face now, his hood having fallen back, revealing his tousled hair. He had a soft shadow of facial hair spanning his jaw, above and below his plump lips. It only proved to make him look more evil.

 

“How many times, sweetheart?” he asked, and to anyone else his tone would seem sincere, soft with concern. “How many times did you touch yourself and try not to think of my cock down your throat, hm?”

 

Her body trembled with rage. And the memory of what his words depicted.

“Did you fight it, little one? I bet you did. I bet you rubbed your little clit until you cried. At night, desperate to sleep….so, so lonely. Wishing you could be filled up with my cock again.” His voice took on possessive tone and she swore his eyes blackened. “Tell me, did _anyone_ make you feel as good as me? Make you _scream –_ ”

 

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” She pulled the hammer of the magnum back with her thumb, the click audible in the room. _Fuck him_. _Fuck_. _Him_.

 

 

It would just take the pull of the trigger now.

 

 

She slid her knees up, edging herself right over his head so the barrel of the gun was pointing straight down over top of him.

 

 

“Do it,” he edged.

 

She did.

 

 

With lightning speed, she yanked a handful of his hair in her left had and dug the gun to the side of his temple.

 

 

And sunk down to smash her cunt into his face.

 

 

Her grip on his hair tightened and she pressed his mouth harder into her wet underwear. He gave a little jolt of surprise and it sent a thrill up her spine.

 

“What was it you said, you bastard? _Anything you don’t ask?_ And you’d _break my fucking jaw?_ ” She tilted her hips against his face, the damp fabric sliding easily against his parted lips. “Well, fucking _same_.”

 

He tried to grumble out a response, but his voice was muffled by her slick cunt, the words sending vibrations against her clit. She tugged his hair and rubbed her crotch against his chin.

 

She smiled cruelly down at him. “You failed last time. And now again.” She could feel the hot bursts of air from his struggled breathing warm her below. Good. She hoped he suffocated. “This is all you’re good for.” Rey released her hold on him and pulled her panties, now see-through, to the side. Her hand went back in his hair.

 

“Now fucking _eat_ my pussy until I come,” she demanded, breathless herself.

 

She chose to ignore the way his eyes rolled back into his head or how eagerly he opened his mouth.

 

He immediately sunk his tongue into her opening, his nose nuzzling into her dark curls and pressing against the bundle of nerves there. He lapped little kitten licks up and down her slit, sending reaching tendrils of pleasure up through her stomach and into her chest with every flick.

 

 

 _Yes, ohmygod, fuck yes_ , she thought, jerking her hips across his mouth and leaving a wet smear of her juices on his skin.

 

 

Her fist clenched and unclenched in his hair, the gun still wedged tightly against his temple, and she began working her pussy against his face, his mouth open with the length of his tongue out, drinking her in and taking the abuse with his eyes closed in apparent bliss.

 

 

Fuck, he was _enjoying this_.

 

 

“Now who’s a little bitch, you fuck?” she panted between whimpers, grinding down on his face so hard that it _hurt._ She felt and heard him moan into her cunt.

She shivered as the velvet of his tongue weaved its way through her folds before it began grazing her clit from side-to-side and then in circles. _Fuck_ , he was good at this.

 

 

She could feel her orgasm rising from deep within her, practically clawing its way up into her body with each swish of his tongue and pull of his lips.

 

 

 _God_ , his mouth was so _hot_ and _wet_ and he was going to make her _come_ with it.

 

 

The .357 stayed gripped in her hand, but gingerly, she came to brace it on the floor instead of against his head.

 

 

Torturously slow, he stroked her clit with the flat of his tongue, his eyes finding hers in the dark before he wrapped those luscious lips of his around it and _sucked_ , pulling her clit into his hot mouth like taffy.

 

“Fuck!” she spat out, almost in disbelief. “ _Oooh, oh god,_ I – I’m going to come all over your fucking face.” He sucked again, determined and greedy, carefully caressing the bud with the tip of his tongue. _Shittt_.

 

She was rocking her hips frantically against him now – she was sure he couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stop, couldn’t pull her pussy off his face to let him. She was going to come, and it felt so, _so, fucking good._

 

 

“Rey?” she heard someone call from down the stairs. _JESUS FUCKING CHRIST_. Poe. Her hips stilled, but his tongue didn’t. Distracted and her legs slack, she felt the man beneath her pull his arms up and out of the confines from between her calves pressed to the sides of his body.

 

“Hey, is everything okay? I heard some thumps up there. You having another nightmare?”

 

Without warning, one huge hand grabbed a fistful of her ass and the other pushed an impossibly long, thick thumb into her slit.

 

“ _Yes!”_ she moaned at being filled, the walls of her pussy clenching with need against the digit, his tongue still flicking, his lips still sucking. She looked down at him and she could see the corners of his mouth turn up into a fucking Cheshire cat grin. A pussy-eating grin. Did this man have no _shame_?

 

“I mean, n-no!” she stuttered out, raising her voice. He started easing his thumb in and out of her hole. “I’m fine, Poe! Go,” _ah, fuck, that was good_ , “go back to bed!” She heard Poe mumble something, inaudible through the space, and the shut of a door.

 

She sighed in relief and glanced down. The _criminal_ currently _fucking eating her out_ pumped his thumb into her again and squeezed her bum harder – hard enough to leave prints – and she took her hand out of his hair to bite her hand so she wouldn’t fucking scream.

 

Slowly, his hand slid from her tight little ass to the glock. With his eyes locked onto hers, he steadily released the hammer back into its original position while it was in her hands. And she fucking _let_ him peel her fingers off the weapon, ever-so gently, so that the offending object was left on the floor untouched.

 

He gave her pussy another long, slow lick before she was flipped on her back, his mouth still on her cunt and his thumb still inside her. _Shit_ , had he really been capable of doing that the whole goddamn time?!

 

She scrambled to sit up, but the bastard jerked out his thumb and rammed two fingers back up inside her to take its place, pumping them hard into her cunt while he braced an arm against her thigh to keep her from moving.

 

 _Holy fuck_ , she screamed internally. Rey couldn’t pull her eyes from watching his efforts between her legs, from watching the man she’d had fucking _nightmares_ about fucking her with his mouth and fingers. From watching the man who’d made her come harder than she’d ever come before attempt to do it _all over_ _again_.

 

She crossed her arms over her face and arched her back, his fingers squelching into her pussy faster and faster. Her toes pointed. She could _hear_ the force of his hand slamming against her cunt.

 

“Yes, yes, _hurry_! Ahhh, _fuckkk_!” she muttered frantically into her arms. She thrashed her head and bit the inside of her bicep.

 

She felt his head dip lower, and one of his hands stretched her panties further aside.

 

The softness of his wet tongue grazed the little puckered hole of her ass in the same moment he wedged a third finger inside her cunt.

 

She _shattered._

Her body shook with silent sobs, every muscle in her body spasming. She could hardly feel the little nips being placed on the inside of her thighs.

 

 _Fuuuuck._ This was her own personal version of hell. Where the devil made you _want_ to stick around to watch your whole fucking world go up in flames.

 

From between her fingers covering her eyes, she could see him crawling his way up her body like a lynx, slinking closer toward her until she could feel him _fucking breathe_.

 

Her forced her arms away from her face, her hands batting at his for dominance until finally he squeezed her left breast through the cotton of her sleep clothes and plunged two of his wet, sodden fingers into her mouth.

 

The tanginess and sweetness tingled on her tongue and she suckled on his fingers for a minute with her eyes closed, savoring the evidence that she had _finally_ come, that she wasn’t fucking broken.

 

He burrowed his forehead against her neck and she could feel the coolness of her juices on his chin seep into her shirt.

 

“ _Shit_ , little one, doesn’t that taste good?” he asked, as if he really wanted to know. “You taste. So. Fucking. _Good_.” He was groaning, _sogood sogood sogood_ , as he slid his fingers in and out of her mouth. “Your pretty little pussy only wants to cum for me, doesn’t it, baby?” he said into her neck.

 

No.

 

Without thinking, she shot out a hand and fucking _raked_ her nails against the pale skin of his cheek, digging into and ripping the flesh. She could feel blood blooming beneath her fingers and she had to suppress a fucking _giggle_ from sounding around his fingers in her mouth. Elation filled her senses and _Jesus_ , what the fuck!?

 

Rey braced herself for the rebuttal, but instead of a fist to the face or the snap of her neck, her own fingers were brought to his mouth, and she watched the pink of his tongue dart out to lick a smear of his own blood off the tip.

 

She stared. Her nipples hardened and her clit pulsed.

 

And then her bedroom door opened and a tall, dark figure loomed into the room.

 

“What the fuck, Ren!?” the body whisper-shouted. It was a woman, based on the pitch of her voice. But she had on all black, as well as one of the masks the man in front of her had worn before. Rey bristled, tugging her mouth away. _The fuck was going on in her goddamn house!?_ The woman silently moved to the open window.

 

“I’ve got it, now let’s go, dipshit,” she said, swinging a leg over the windowsill. “Take care of this,” was her last demand, waving her gloved hand wildly at Rey before giving him a hard look and dropping out of sight.

 

The man… _Ren_?...shook his head as if coming out of a daze and hopped up, his sizeable hard-on evident through his jeans. He swiftly jerked his hood back onto his head with finesse.

 

Rey lay still on the floor.

 

He shook his wrists out, as if wearing invisible cufflinks, and looked down at her.

 

“Pleasure as always, sweetheart,” he purred, and with a running leap out of her window, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY, PHASMA! HEY, GURL! Well, shit. Spoiler alert: it's Phasma.
> 
> *Drops the smut off with the garbage and pulls a Kylo with a running leap out of an open window*
> 
> I really wanted to have Rey just pistol whip him in the face and yell, "GET YOUR DICK OUT!" but that wouldn't really be a long chapter. 
> 
> Originally, everything that played out was supposed to be HALF of a chapter. Oops. Rey just really, really needed some zhoosh in her life. Next one is all Kylo, because he's big and bad and delish and WOW I can't STFU tonight. 
> 
> Was this a weird chapter? Don't answer that. But really. Be honest. I think it's either too much or too little, and I can't decide. But I hope it tickles someone out there. 
> 
> I have to go to work in like 5 hours. Toodles.


	3. Olenna

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. Sorry. Not dead. But I've basically been whoring my house out to family and friends and I've had NO time for meself.
> 
> Also, thank you SO much to those who commented on the last bit as well. Sorry I haven't had time to respond to them all ='( Means the world, though, and I totally appreciated and loved each one. Xoxoxo!
> 
> So, here's like, a filler, but a necessary one for more smut?

* * *

 

 

 

 

 

Kylo’s knuckles were bone white as he gripped at the steering wheel of his Lexus.

 

 

His dick hurt and his ears hurt (in two very different ways) and if he had to bear the complexities of a female for one more goddamned second he was going to snap.

 

 

He could’ve heard the squeak of the leather under the pressure of his grasp if it hadn’t been for the fact that he couldn’t get the huge ass woman in the passenger seat to _shut the fuck up_.

 

“—and then I’m stuck there in that shitty hallway not knowing where to go because YOU weren’t there to give me my signal,” she was yammering on, her pale face speckled with pink in frustration and blonde hair poking in every which way like she’d just pulled her finger from a fricking socket.

 

 

He stomped the gas as he made a sharp left turn at a red-light, ignoring the honks and a few middle fingers aimed at his vehicle. Pussies.

 

“—because, no, some little scrap held you up and what? What, Ren? Fuck you! It was _my_ ass on the line tonight and you _knew_ that—“ she spouted, and _no_. Hell, no.

 

 

“Shut the fuck up, Phas, that’s bullshit, and _you_ know _that,_ ” he growled her way, eyes focused on the road. “This isn’t what you were fucking recruited for. You hack. He might’ve said it was a test for you, but it was all me. So shut the fuck up.”

 

 

He relaxed a bit at telling her off, relishing at how she quickly piped down and crossed her arms over her chest. The moment didn’t last long. He needed a drink. He needed a fucking drink _so_ bad.

 

 

“You don’t have to remind me, dumbass. If I hadn’t agreed to the terms, I’d still be serving slop at that shithole jail and you’d be the one wolfing it down – for years, mind you. So your ungrateful ass can thank me later. For then _and_ tonight.” He could _feel_ her smugness but let it go for the sake of a little silence. In just a few minutes, Phasma would be out of his damn car and he could have some peace and motherfucking quiet.

 

 

Jesus, he needed that. And a drink.

 

 

He had to hand it to her, though. She was pretty spot-on, as much as he hated to admit it. If she hadn’t agreed to work for Snoke in exchange for both of their freedom, he’d still be subjected to, well, being an inmate for starters, and one that was served his meals by a self-taught computer wiz in a hairnet. Also known as the fuming gargantuan currently taking advantage of his Lexus’s heated seats. But, if it hadn’t been for his excellent interpersonal skills and methods of persuasion, they might both still be there as well. So she really had him to thank, too. And maybe Snoke.

 

 

Because, as per usual, Snoke had gotten what he wanted and had played his cards perfectly well – like a true gent – to get a hacker with an already bad name. So when Kylo had been offered one more shot and free pass out of jail, he’d known nothing free was free. That was smarts. But it was luck that brought the whole unlikely scheme into fruition.

 

 

Phasma’s loud “ _ugh!”_ of disgust brought Kylo out of his surmising. She was looking at him positively affronted as he pulled into her drive.

 

 

It was especially dark around this backwoods, little community village. Garbage lay scattered about, and _three_ raccoons scattered across the lane as he maneuvered on the pavement. Quaint. Only one streetlight appeared to be working, but it was enough that Kylo could see the mat in front of Phasma’s door read “Go Away.” He reasoned internally that he could probably get along with her just fine if she weren’t so fucking obnoxious.

 

 

Phasma fished out her keys and about-faced him in the seat, an evil glare plastered on her face. She looked like he’d just fucking spit into her open mouth.

 

 

“One more thing. You’ve had _that_ ,” her eyes darted to his groin, “the whole way. I’m not an idiot, Ren. Next time you want to get your dick wet on _my_ time, _reconsider,_ you pig _.”_ Really? _Really?!_

 

 

His lips were trying embarrassingly hard to form words, but he wasn’t able to figure out a profane enough retort before she’d slammed his car door shut and let herself into the house.

 

 

 _Big Bird bitch,_ Kylo thought as he made the drive to his own home, city lights practically ramming their way into his vision. He added a headache to the laundry list of ailments caused by today.

 

 

Oh, yeah. And his _fucking face_. Which once again showed signs of abuse from a particularly witchy brunette. Stealing a quick glance in the rear-view, he could see tiny flecks of blood dried to his face from where she’d clawed at him. She’d fucking mauled him like he’d been a slab of meat in front of a starved lion. And had loved every second.

 

 

These vindictive cunts were going to be the death of him – and for what? What had he done that was _so terrible_? Sure he had committed a few felonies, but did he really deserve to be fucking _maimed_? God, he hoped so.

 

He could see the look in her eyes now as she did it. How they practically fucking _shone_ with merriment. Like causing him pain was her favorite pastime. Like she was a fucking evil bitch who wanted to see him _bleed_. But he’d gotten the last laugh. He could tell, that he’d caught her off guard. And when he’d let his tongue dart out to swipe at her fingers….

 

 

Fuck.

 

 

When he’d forced to her to taste his. When they’d been sticky with her own cum - _god_ , she’d been so s _weet -_ and she looked elated to have her mouth coated in it.

 

 

_Fuck._

 

 

He pulled off the side of the road and onto the shoulder. Put it in park. Cars passed by every few seconds and he was not even a solid five minutes from home but he _didn’t fucking care_. Damnit. He’d had a hard-on for almost a fucking _hour_ now. He might have to go to the hospital if he waited any longer.

 

 

One of his hands found the button of his black jeans, the zipper next, while the other grappled around in the console to find what he’d placed there only moments ago. He draped the lanyard around the rear-view mirror then released his rock hard cock from the confines of his pants, groaning when his rough palm made contact with the length.

 

 

His fist pumped over his cock for a few leisurely strokes as he scraped his tongue along the roof of his mouth, then out to lick his lips, trying to glean even a trace of what was left to taste of her.

 

 

Because she had forced him on his back at fucking _gunpoint_ and made him lick her clean and _fuck_ if it hadn’t been a goddamn spiritual experience.

 

It was a miracle he didn’t have bald patches from how aggressively she’d taken his hair in her little hands, tugging and pressing his face harder against her slick cunt, her hips riding his face and smearing every bit of her against him. Him practically fucking _drinking_ her. Breathing in the _smell_ of her, fuck.

 

 

He allowed his thumb to slide over the fleshy head at his tip and he bit into his clenched fist pressed to his mouth, swallowing his moan.

 

 

_Rey._

 

That was her name. His little hellcat had a fucking name like _Rey._ It almost pissed him off. He licked his lips again as he focused on the Resistance ID swinging from his mirror, her face an unclear black and white image, too small in the corner to make out her petite features. He vaguely thought she was, like, _pretty_ or some shit.

 

 

He squeezed and jerked his fist faster and faster across his swollen cock, and he was wondering how he had become this desperate when driblets of his spend coated his hand and spotted the steering wheel just inches from his lap, the white of it stark against the black leather.

 

Not bothering to clean himself or the interior of the vehicle, Kylo gave himself a moment to slam the back of his head against the headrest so hard that it bounced off and put the car in drive.

 

 

Five pours of Scotch later, he passed out on the couch. He woke up later with his mouth tasting like peat and ash.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Monday came, and Rey was still reveling in the fact that she was one boss ass bitch.

 

She’d brought that grown hulk of a man to his knees and had her way with him and had come away unscathed.

 

Apparently it was next to impossible to drown whilst taking a shower, because Rey would have if it were. Because she’d been standing under the scalding flow of water for more than twenty minutes - just standing there – thinking of it. Relishing the feeling.

 

Nevermind that he’d liked it, broken into her house illegally, and apparently taken something with an _accomplice_. The tables had still been turned in her favor and she’d been ready. Mostly.

 

 

The gun in her hands had felt _right_. So had his mouth on her pussy.

 

 

“REY!” Her name startled her out of her musing. “What the fuck, you’re using all the hot water!!! We have to leave in fifteen, and I need to shower!!” She rolled her eyes at Finn’s voice and shut off the tap. Fuck Finn and fuck Mondays. Mondays sucked.

 

 

She hadn’t told anyone of what had transpired. Not the first time or the last. No one had asked. And she figured if they’d taken anything of importance, they would have realize it by now. But the weekend had gone by and nothing had come up.

 

Until she’d finished drying off and dressing for work and went for her purse, then her lanyard she kept by the bed.

 

And she heard a very distinguished “FUCK!” from Poe downstairs.

 

The ride to work was quiet on all three fronts. And when the glass doors to the Resistance slid open, the headquarters was a fucking _madhouse_. Everyone was in disarray, weaving around each other in a panic, monitors blinking and flashing, carts of Manila folders being wheeled around from one room to the other. How the fuck did they still have _paper charts?_ Rey made for the lab she helped manage and stopped short at its closed door and the absence of the usual fluorescent lights. Shit.

 

Then Leia fucking Organa-Solo stepped from her office and she just about pissed herself. Poe darted forward and Rey thought he was going to fall to his knees. “Leia….” He started, but she cut him off with a harsh look. Jesus, this woman was fucking Medusa.

 

She wore a crisp white suit, and her salt and pepper hair was coiled elegantly on top her head, a grey stripe curving into the bun. White heels clicked against the tile as she strode to face the trio, the air thick with authority. And rage. Rey gulped.

 

 

“I’d like a word. My office. Now,” she looked only at Poe and Rey, Finn visibly sweating in both fear and relief. The woman was terrifying.

 

 

No wonder people called her The General behind her back.

 

 

The two chanced a look at each other and followed the woman into her office, sitting across from her in the plush, white chairs that were mounted on silver rods. Very mod, Rey noted. She’d never been in here before.

 

Leaning back into her own chair at her desk, Leia tossed something toward Rey, eyes unblinking, lips set in a firm line across her mouth.

 

Her badge. Fuck. Is _that_ what he had—

 

The blue and gold square of Poe’s drive came plunking toward them next. Then silence.

 

 

Oh.

 

“The whole system is down.” Leia said gravely, looking between Rey and Poe. “We were hacked. We have our guys on it, but,” she waved her hand dismissively. No luck, she seemed to say.

 

Poe spoke first. “Leia, I don’t know how this happened. You _know_ I would never—“

 

 

She slid the next and final object across the desk. A slip of paper with neatly penned cursive.

 

 

_I’ll answer this time._

 

Poe and Leia gazed at each other intently. “Ben?” he asked, and Leia nodded her head in response. “How? I mean, he tried last time, but there’s no way….not without us realizing something….” Poe was obviously growing angrier by the second, Rey more confused. She could’ve sworn the girl had said _Ren_ , not…

 

“Ben?” Rey asked.

 

Poe glanced at Leia, who dipped her chin down in permission. “Her son.”

 

The floor fell out from underneath Rey and she felt herself grow pale. “Son?” she gasped out. Leia studied her, her manicured nails tapping idly on the desk.

 

“Yes. My son. We haven’t spoken in years. Had a bad falling out. I didn’t want to say anything last year, not to you, not after what happened. You weren’t one of us, dear. But now….well, now I realize I can’t protect you any longer.” Leia’s gaze softened and she folded her hands. “You must decide now if working here is worth the risk. It’s obvious Ben won’t stop until he’s taken _everything_ from me. As if Snoke hasn’t already tried.” Poe hunched forward in his seat, obviously uncomfortable and furious. Leia smiled at him.

 

“Don’t worry, Dameron. I don’t blame you. We’ve got a good team. You sure you’re on it?” she glanced at Rey, an eyebrow raised. Shit.

 

Of course she was. The Resistance had given her something to _do_. A bloody _income_. Belonging. Who would she have if not them?

 

“Yes. Yes, absolutely. Mrs. Solo, I’m sorry –”

 

“Did you know?” Her eyebrow raised higher. Did you know something was stolen? Something was amiss? It wasn’t quite accusatory, but Rey still felt a little offended.

 

“No. No, of course not.” Her answer was shockingly firm in resonance when she delivered it. Though her heartbeat stuttered in her chest. Why would she _lie_?

 

 

God, she was an idiot.

 

Because if she pieced it together properly, this “Ren” guy was working under the orders of Leia’s fucking _son_. She had fucked Leia’s son’s crony. Rey was bound to turn into a puddle on the floor any moment now. Out of sheer embarrassment.

 

The high she’d felt this weekend came crashing down around her as she realized the turn of events her neglect had caused. She’d done all she could the first time. Called the police. Reported it to Poe. Put the guy in fucking jail.

 

This time she’d face-fucked him and went on about her weekend practically _gloating_. She might as well have given him a slap on the ass on his way out and told him “good game!”

 

So she had to lie. At least for now. To keep her damn job. To keep her family.

 

 

And Leia seemed to accept her words as truth, pushing back from her desk and picking up her mobile. “Good,” she said. Rey silently exhaled.

  

Leia came forward to rest her hip on the desk’s edge in front of Rey and Poe, dialing on the device and holding it out from her casually as the tone rang. Rey’s palms began to sweat, and Poe looked just as anxious.

 

Their whole careers could be determined by this call.

 

If Leia couldn’t sort this shit out….what would that mean for the Resistance?

 

A click was heard over the phone and then a pause.

 

“Ben.” Leia said. There was no kindness in her voice.

 

“Hello, mother. So good of you to call.” The dark timbre brushed over every nerve in Rey’s spine and she audibly gasped. No. _no, no, NO!_ Her skin would prickle at that voice even if she’d been six feet under for a month.

 

 

It was him.

 

 

Shit.

 

She’d fucked Leia’s _actual son._ _Shit!!!_

 

The General went on, ignoring Rey’s intake of breath. “What does he want, Ben? Be quick about it.”

  

His chuckle vibrated through the phone, and Rey could feel it across her whole body somehow. “No how are you or I miss you? I’m hurt. Truly. But I’m sure you could make it up to me by postponing the release of your new fighter jets for a quarter. Snoke wants his plans to be the first to hit the market, you see.”

 

“Plans that _we_ developed, you little shit.” Her voice was deathly. Rey grabbed at Poe’s arm across the chair and squeezed.

 

“How adept of you to notice, mother. It seems you’re still mostly competent in your old age. But what will you do without _all_ your physical, chemical, and mathematical data, hm? Start from scratch? Even you’re not _that_ good.” Leia scrutinized the fingernails of her left hand, debating.

 

Fuck, Rey hated this man. This egotistical bastard. Not only had he warped her mind, but he’d stolen all of the work she’d put her blood, sweat, and tears into. She had been ready to head one of her first projects out of undergrad, to really get her name out there as a biochemical engineer, maybe get published, and now she had nothing to show for it?!

 

“You’ve got one more minute, Ben.”

 

 

He growled. “You’re not in the position of power here, _General_. Hux has drawn up a contract declaring the delivery of all _our_ recently acquired data back to you. So long as you agree and push the fighter release back a quarter. Deal or no deal.”

 

 

Rey chewed her thumbnail and looked between Poe and Leia. Poe was shaking his head, mouthing not to do it, and Leia had her gaze dead set on the wall, wheels turning.

 

 

The release of the new fighter jets would astound the aeronautical world with a tailspin. The progress they’d made….the new developments they’d pioneered….it would be worth millions. Maybe billions, once they went international. Rey knew how hard her teammates had worked for this moment, and worked even longer and harder before she came along. And to give it all up, to pass their success off as not their own? Her gut clenched.

 

“When?” Leia asked, quietly now.

 

 

“Tomorrow night, 10pm sharp. Same spot.” He seemed so nonchalant now, as if he were discussing a meeting for a book club he was in.

 

 

Leia looked at the ceiling then dropped her head in defeat. They couldn’t start from the beginning. She’d given her _life_ to the damn Resistance.

 

 

“I’ll be there. Expect to negotiate.” Leia moved to end the call, but his voice cut through once more.

 

 

“ _No_. Send the girl.” And the line went dead.

 

 

Leia slowly turned her head to look at Rey, an unreadable expression on her face. It seemed hours passed, the General’s eyes boring into her own. Like she could smell him on her. As if every spot he'd touched had been inked onto her for all to see. Rey braced herself. But Leia merely pushed herself off the desk and walked out of her office without another word.

 

 

She could feel Poe’s eyes on her as she followed suit.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It won't take me eighty years for the next, I promise. <3 your comments and thoughts. xo.


	4. kamikaze

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's, like, way longer than my usual. I fell asleep writing it multiple times, so I won't hold it against you if you fall asleep reading it. 
> 
>    
> But I wanted to give you all the reads, because guys. Y'all are the greatest ever. Thank you so much for your continued reading and comments. But also bc I'm not sure when I can update next with weddings and vacays and such. But I heart you. I hope you enjoy or at the very least get a good nap in xoxo.

* * *

 

 

When she had been small, there had been a little game she’d liked to play.

 

All of her friends would gather around the old junkyard by her house and prepare themselves to launch into action, waiting on just one deed, their eyes wide and chests still with anticipation.

 

Then she’d kick the can.

 

Her foot would make contact with the old, aluminum soda can with a hollow _thoink!_ then she and her friends would take off into the rows of totaled cars and scraps of metal, ambling away from the designated seeker so that they wouldn’t be able to be found, to be tagged.

  

Rey’s own heart would quicken its pace as she listened to the seeker count loudly as he or she went to retrieve the can as quickly as possible so that the chase could begin.

 

She never remembered who won or how long they’d tried to sneak and race back to the can, if the seeker managed to tag everyone or catch them in hiding.

 

She only recalled that the feeling always elated her – the stealth and the surprise of it all. That the junkyard kids always asked her to kick the can.

 

Because she kicked it with all her might – so tremendously hard that the metal often dented – so that the other kids would have longer to hide, more of a chance.

  

Rey _enjoyed_ helping. It gave her sense of purpose when people relied on her. Always had.

 

 

That’s why it was so confusing that she felt physically ill at the prospect currently.

 

  

There was _actually_ a fifty-fifty chance she was going to fucking _hurl_ all over the god forsaken, white garment set Leia had forced her to wear, heels and all. It wouldn’t be a cute look.

 

Not that Rey thought it was a _cute_ look to begin with. The neckline of her white top dipped a bit too much for her liking. And she didn’t wear fucking heels or fucking skirts, and yet somehow that was what hurt her feet and stuck to her skin. Granted, it was a nice silky material – not leather, because she wasn’t fucking Batman - and it draped and gathered in all the right places. But she couldn’t wear her normal underwear without the lines showing on her bum. Her lady bits were going to be on a tropical fucking vacation with this much breathability. And she swore she was teetering on the edge of the world in the strappy sandals. Okay, they weren’t _that_ high, but still. They weren’t, like, _comfortable_.

 

_“You can do some damage with a stiletto if you need to, and you’re tan. White looks good on people who are tan. And you need to look good.” Leia lectured, walking to the armoire. “Distractingly good. You’re with the Resistance now. You could do to fix your hair up a bit, if you ask me.” She hadn’t. Asked, that is. But Leia was then pushing the hanger into her hands and shoving her into her office restroom before she could protest._

  

Rey looked in the mirror and wondered who would take over the Resistance and sign her paychecks if Leia suddenly came up fucking _murked_.

 

  

Probably Poe.

 

_So never-fucking-mind._

 

 

Rey stepped out of the bathroom and back into the shark tank.

  

Truly, she admired the woman. After all, she’d given her employment right out of school and had paved her own way in Rey’s very field, forming the Resistance with just her name and the formulas and derivatives Rey herself had been taught. But she was a shark, and sharks wanted blood. It was a challenge not to feel caged in a sense, even when it was just her appearance being inspected.

  

Leia gave her a once over, nose wrinkling, arms folded. “It’ll work.”

 

Okay, you know what, fuck this bitc—

  

“Remember what I said. You don’t sign a damn thing. Is that clear?”

 

Yes, it was clear. She’d only reiterated it fifty thousand times.

 

Don’t sign. No matter what. How difficult was that to comprehend? They just needed to stall. Buy their guys some time. And Rey was a new, shiny piece of bait to dangle off the reel. Rey jerked her chin in a silent pledge. Leia was satisfied.

 

“Excellent. We’ll be in touch, I presume. Now, there’s a car out front waiting for you. Best get on with it.” Leia gestured for the door.

 

Rey turned with a cleansing breath.

 

This was it. The descent into hell. She hoped they had bourbon there. And cheese.

  

She pushed the door open and stepped into the archway.

  

“Rey?” Leia called from behind her, a last farewell.

  

“Yes?”

  

“Good luck.”

 

_Yeah._

 

 

* * *

 

 

Her psychopath, fucked-up demon criminal slash the Academy award-winning worst son of the fucking century was located on the 49th floor for whatever reason.

  

 _Her_? What the fuck, no, scratch that. _The_.

  

 _He_ was on the 49 th floor of this building, its charcoal marble gleaming in the night.

 

She knew that because her driver, “Threepio”, had told her so. And she’d bet her last dollar and her favorite vibrator that Threepio had been a crack baby with a name like that.

  

She waved to him as he drove away.

   

Until it was just her standing on the concrete sidewalk, winding through the throngs of city streetwalkers, ignoring a few (likely drunken) catcalls that fell on her ears. She barely registered the scene.

  

 

_Why her?_

  

 

It was all she’d been able to think about.

 

  

The only reasonable and logical solution was to torment her. Embarrass her ( _further_ ). He’d said he would pay her back for before. Well, _before_ before. Did he tally their most recent rendezvous against her too? It didn’t really matter. She refused to think of that now. And she’d taken precaution.

  

The heels, to start. She could bludgeon. And the gun she’d rendered just a few nights before was tucked inside her crossbody handbag. Getting her concealed and carry had been a _priority_ a little over a year ago. So she had _that_ going for her at least.

  

If worst came to worst tonight, she wouldn’t hesitate to use it. Not like before. Then, she’d feared Poe and Finn would hear and…well, why, she didn’t know. Fuck. Why didn’t she know? It would’ve just been…complicated. And she wasn’t a fucking _murderer_. Not yet.

  

But motherfucking _try_ her tonight. If things got violent…

 

Without a blink or a flinch or any outward action to give away her nervousness, Rey glided through the double glass doors into the establishment and strode up to the apparent concierge. He wore an all black suit with a single red pin on the lapel. The shape of the metal formed and fused an “F” with an “O”.

 

Rey cleared her throat. “Good evening. I’m here to see—“

  

“Right this way, ma’am.” Okay. Rude. How did he even know who she was? Ben, Ren, whoever the fuck _he_ was could use better security. Dipshit.

 

She followed the man to an elevator, where he beckoned her inside, pulled and swiped a card from his jacket, and promptly pressed the lone “49” button at the top of the panel before ducking himself out as the doors closed her in.

 

 

He had the fucking penthouse suite. Fucking _how._

 

 

The first time she’d seen this guy, he’d been wearing black jeans and a black hoodie. Basic. Simple. The black mask, he could’ve purchased at Walmart.

  

The second time she’d seen him, he’d been wearing black jeans and a black hoodie. That he could’ve purchased at Walmart.

 

Nothing about him had screamed Daddy Warbucks. Okay. _Maybe_ daddy—fuck, no. Focus.

 

The _point_ was, she now rose to meet him, in an elevator. Like, a fancy ass elevator. She doubted he _lived_ here though. This was likely a strictly business, client-oriented facility. And the top floor housed a conference room. Multiple conference rooms.

 

 Rey glanced down to her wrist at the crystal-encrusted watch Leia had pinned to her, a final adornment. To show she was _hers_. _Theirs_. The Resistance’s. It was 9:57PM.

 

The elevator _dinged_ , signaling it had reached its destination. Rey smoothed out her top, the skirt, cracked her neck to the left and then the right. Squared her shoulders. It was go time.

  

_Don’t sign anything._

_Buy us some time._

_Don’t sign anything._

_Whatever it takes._

 

 _Call me_.

 

The doors slid open and she stepped out decidedly.

  

And _fuck_. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. He _lived_ here. This was easily someone’s home.

 

There was a foyer of sorts, with gleaming black floors and grey walls, the ceiling high and dripping with a blown glass chandelier, its tendrils curving and weaving out into the air in a seafoam array of mastery and skill. Mirrors lined the walls, and she refused to look at her reflection as she kept going, heels reminding her that she was actually moving and progressing. There was a small table to her right with a fuschia orchid sitting on its top. She was unable to tell if it was real or not, but she couldn’t see him watering a plant, keeping a thing alive.

 

She made her way through the open space and gawked. Okay. If he had meant to embarrass her, shame her, whatever, he had accomplished it.

  

This place was huge. The open floor plan boasted a modern kitchen, a fully stocked bar, and a sitting room, the flat-screen tv accented by abstract art and the finest textiles and décor Rey had ever seen.

 

 

 _Fuck_ , was he gay? Had she turned him too? Poe and Finn would be _pissed_ if he took that from them.

 

  

But no, there was a definite element of masculinity that greeted her. From the subdued, neutral tones of the space. Its darkness. She felt him.

 

And she saw him. Standing near the bar with his back turned to her, facing out toward the city, the entire back wall a pane of glass that showed the night’s cityscape. She was going to take another step forward when he spoke.

 

“You’re late.” She held up her watch again. 9:59PM. Prick.

 

“I’m not. I’m a minute early.” The edge was already sharpening in her voice. She had to calm down. But, honestly, saying she was _late_? She was never late.

  

She saw him glance at his own watch and stuff his hands back in his pockets. It was then she realized he was wearing a suit – all black - and she almost laughed out loud on the spot. Until he turned around to face her and the amusement died in her throat, almost choking her.

  

He kind of looked the same. But also didn’t. Because what she had come to note as his unruly hair had been combed into waves, the facial hair around his mouth now trimmed and its lines more defined. He wore a black shirt under the suit as well, no tie. His shoes were nice. He had cufflinks. And a smirk. That _fucking_ smirk.

 

“Mine says one after. That qualifies you as late, _Rey_.” He began to walk toward her and she forced herself not to back away.

 

She ignored the way his eyes took in her appearance, ignored how it chilled yet exhilarated her.

 

She held her breath as she felt the heat of his body when he neared her, but released it once he breezed right past her to the bar and uncorked a bottle.

 

She cleared her throat. “Don’t call me that.” He dropped a cube of ice into his drink with fucking _tongs_ and gave his glass a swirl. “Besides, I didn’t come all the way here to debate the _time._ ” He scoffed, making a second.

  

“Please. Your headquarters is five miles from here, if that. Ten minutes with traffic.” He sauntered over and handed her one of the glasses, which she took. Because she’d watched him make it and _Christ_ did she need it. “And don’t call you what, your name? What would you rather me call you, then?” He gestured to her cocktail, indicating her to drink. Which she did. “Something naughty, little one? While you’re bent over my knee?”

 

Rey choked on her drink and started coughing. Her eyes watered from the sting of the alcohol down her windpipe, and holy mother of god, she was going to kill him in his sleep. This asshole! She’d thought they could just ignore their little history. In light of business, but no. He barked out an actual laugh, husky and deep, and sarcastically pat her on the back with two thumps before her sputtering died down.

 

“Just don’t refer to me at all, you asshat!” she rasped, rubbing at her throat. He raised a quizzical brow, a trait he’d apparently inherited from his maternal side. “Do you have a contract or not? I’ve got your _mother_ to report back to.”

 

She said it almost accusingly and she wasn’t sure why. She didn’t know him, didn’t owe him anything. He owed her, maybe. So she was a little satisfied when his eyes flinched and his seemingly permanent smirk transformed into a glower.

  

He stepped forward, completely invading her personal space, so that his face was mere inches from hers. She could feel his breath fan across her cheek.

 

“There will be no mention of that _woman_ tonight. It’s just you and me.” Something in his eyes flared. A warning? A promise? She didn’t know.

  

She had the fleeting desire for him to grab her. To squeeze her hip, clutch her wrist in his hand, anything. But he didn’t. He just slid away and quickly as he had come close. The smell of his aftershave weakened her grasp on her glass a bit, but she recovered quickly.

  

“Let’s sit,” he said, leading her to a long, dining room table under its own chandelier. Two stacks of paper were situated across from each other, a pen by each one. He pulled a chair out for her, and she visibly rolled her eyes. If he noticed, he didn’t let on.

 

 

Honestly, who the fuck _was_ this?

 

 

He settled in the seat opposite to hers and began his spiel.

  

“I’m not sure of how much you know about the First Order. Not much you need to know, really. But recently we’ve come across some valuable information,” he smiled as Rey sat fuming, “that has enabled the First Order to engineer the finest jets of our time. It’s imperative for Mr. Snoke – that is, Edmund Snoke, our CEO – to have his jets release before any competition can garner these new advances and integrate them into their own supply.” He took a swig of his drink.

 

“That’s where you come in.” He tapped the stack of papers in front of him. “The…head of the Resistance has already granted you procuration. You’re the acting agent now. You’re to enter a binding agreement to postpone the Resistance release of the new F789’s by four months. The quarter starts tomorrow. That will give Snoke enough time to organize the release on his end. Your people will stay quiet once the supply hits the market and will forfeit all credibility and recognition. All you have to do is read through these - it shouldn’t take more than a few minutes – then initial and sign where indicated.” He stared at her, unblinking.

  

“All this for information _you_ stole _._ Partly from _my_ house no less.” Sure, she was stating the obvious. But didn’t he feel even a _little_ bad?

  

“Did I? If memory serves me correct, I was otherwise….occupied.” _Shit_. She would not think of how the suction of his mouth had felt—

  

She pulled at her skirt, her thighs shifting against the acrylic seat. She’d choose to ignore his response. “And in return? You said we’d get everything back.” The man nodded slowly. “Tonight.” He paused.

  

“You understand that would be extremely difficult to do. Re-uploading data to a system takes time,” he said, as if he were explaining this to a small child.

  

“Someone wiped it in a few hours. Not so impossible to reverse it overnight, I would think.” She could play, too. She needed to feel out how desperate they were, what they were willing to offer. That is, if they were even being honest. Doubtful. She wouldn’t put it past this man and his employer to jerk the rug out from underneath the Resistance as soon as they got what they wanted.

  

She crossed her legs and pulled at the skirt again to cover her thighs. She was never wearing something like this again.

 

He leaned forward on the table, hands clasped. She could make out little half moon shapes on the top of one of his hands.

 

“Take some time to read through these first. Then we’ll see.”

 

“Fine.” Rey sat up straight and began scanning the documents. Really, it was like she was in school all over again. Paragraphs upon paragraphs, not a bullet point in sight. Jesus, what dickwad had typed this up? Most of what she took in was legal jargon, shit she didn’t comprehend in the slightest. Because she wasn’t a fucking lawyer. 

 

She asked the occasional question when relevant and as it came to her. _When would this take effect? Is this pertaining to the whole team? What about revenue generated after the contract ends?_ He answered them all calmly, because he was just fucking _sitting_ there. Watching her read. It was unnerving. She fingered the material around her legs again, pulling it down as she wriggled in her seat. She was only getting a little wet under his stare.

  

“Can you fucking sit still?” His voice interrupted her reading. She only had three pages left, and he was motherfucking _scolding_ her?

  

Rey didn’t even look up from the page. “No.” Fuck you. And was that a _growl_ from across the table? God, she was negotiating with a frigging animal. This guy belonged in a cage.

 

Just to spite him, she uncrossed her legs only to cross the other leg over her knee again.

  

Her head jerked up when she heard the legs of his chair scrape against the floor.

  

She shot out her hands to grab for the table when her chair was jerked backwards and her with it, like she weighed nothing. He crouched silently before her. He didn’t look very happy. In fact, he looked _pissed_. But he wasn’t looking at her. Not really. His eyes dragged along her hips, and his huge hands soon followed, running from the bare slit of stomach showing along the sides of her ass and down her thighs. It _burned_.

  

“I’m trying very hard to be a fucking _professional_.” He fisted the hem of her skirt in his hands and gave a firm tug to make it cover more of her leg. “But you’re not making it easy….”

  

Both his palms came to rest on her knees, the pads of his thumbs sliding to the inside of her thighs under the skirt. Her stomach clenched of its own accord, and she was sure he could feel how tight the muscles under his touch had gotten. How hot and fevered her skin must be.

 

She had to turn this thing around. They couldn’t go this way. She was here for _Leia_. For the _Resistance_ , _Poe_ , _Finn_. But goddamn. “Sit back _down_ ,” she said firmly, staring at the man in front of her, with his hands on her. His throat bobbed for a moment before he actually _listened_. She felt the loss of his presence immediately.

 

 

They both sat in silence then, her marveling at how fucking _well-behaved_ he was being. That he’d actually obeyed her. Like before….

 

 

Stop, she told herself. She was starting to want him to fuck her. Like, really wanting him to. Neither of them spoke.

 

 

This was fucking awkward as shit.

 

 

Rey stood up abruptly. She had to clear her head. Talk to Leia. Drink some water, something. “Where’s your restroom?”

 

He actually grinned.

 

He got up from his seat and wordlessly led her down the hall, flicking the light on and gesturing her in. She closed the door and immediately splashed her face with cold water from the tap.

  

She felt hot, the lust inside her flaring back to life as she took in little glimpses of him, from the soap on the sink that smelled like him to the hand towel that he’d probably wrung with those huge hands of his. _Fuck_ , she was bad at this.

 

She fanned herself. Her clothes were too tight, but she couldn’t really take those off. So she unclasped her watch instead and cursed when it clanged to the floor, the metal backing coming loose on the tile.

  

Shit, Leia was going to kill her if she ruined her things.

 

Rey picked it up. Along with the small square of metal that had fallen out. It had a tiny wire peeking out of the tip, brandished with an even smaller red light that blinked intermittently, mocking her. This wasn’t part of the watch.

 

No….

 

He. He hadn’t touched her, not there. He had no reason to bug her, to put a wire on her.

 

It was…Leia who had given her the watch. She covered her mouth with her hand and sunk down to her knees.

 

 

Did they not trust her? After _everything_?

 

 

Rey was stunned. Her heart clenched in her chest as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She wondered if the others were in on it too, if they didn’t think her capable. She supposed she should be used to being let down by now.

  

By fucking everyone.

 

She stood up.

 

Rey fished her mobile out of her purse. She’d give Leia a chance to confess, she decided. A test. Rey would tell her all the details she’d gathered from the meeting thus far and see if she got anything in return. Because if not, she was going to get _something_ for the hell she’d put herself through tonight. Something she wanted. And the Resistance be _damned_ if they didn’t think she’d earned it.

 

  

* * *

 

 

 

Kylo needed a fucking Valium. But they were stashed behind the mirror in the bathroom. Where _she_ was.

 

That fucking _bitch_.

  

He paced back and forth by the bar then felt like an idiot and poured himself another drink – two shots this time. Jesus, she was making this hard. Making _him_ hard.

  

When she’d walked in…..sheathed in that white little number that _screamed_ the Resistance, wobbling like a newborn fawn in those heels. That made her little ass look, well, incredible. He’d seen her reflection in the window, and _fuck._ Was he supposed to be doing something right now???

 

He knew what he’d like to be doing.

  

Kylo threw back the rest of his liquor and downed it in one gulp. _Motherfuck_.

 

He could hear her now, talking to his _fucking mother_. He wanted to punch his fist through the wall. Because she was _his_. Not _hers_. The girl, not his mother. And while it was an irrational thought, it was one that crossed his mind regardless.

  

Still, he’d been true in what he’d said. He was trying to, no, had to be professional tonight. His alliance with Snoke depended on it. Not that he needed it, what with the inheritance from his grandfather, but it gave him something to do. The fact that it pissed off his mother was just a perk. Because of that, he _really_ wanted to see things through. Really wanted her to sign, and fast. Because the alternative wasn’t as appealing to him. So he wanted to do a good job with the signing then _maybe_ get out.

 

So far, he was doing a shitty job. What was she _doing_ in there? The talking had stopped a few minutes ago. He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on and off. Then finally the door opened.

  

He ignored her and started on his third drink.

 

“Good idea,” she said from behind him, “maybe this _would_ go better if you just passed out drunk.” He shot her a look over his shoulder. She was leaning against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed. She had great tits.

  

“If you think I can’t hold my liquor, you’re wrong, sweetheart,” he proved his point by taking a swig. “Want another?” She shook her head no. Fine. Refuse his alcohol. He didn’t care. Bitch.

 

“So.” She started, picking at her nails. “We want proof that things will be transferred. Tonight. Before signing.” The girl, _Rey_ , he kept reminding himself, stared at him expectantly.

 

He tapped on his glass with his finger. “You know that’s not possible.” Really? Did she think they were a bunch of idiots? Is that really the impression he’d given? That shit kinda hurt. _Could_ he text Phasma and ask her to restore the data tonight? Sure. Would Snoke have his head? Asbo-fucking-lutely. “Out of the question.”

  

“Yeah?” she asked, and he looked at her, a bored expression on his face. She smiled. “Then we’ll have to cut tonight short. No deal.” Maybe he was a little proud of her, his little hellcat. But also, fucking _no_.

 

 

 No. She had to sign. He had to get this shit under control and fast.

 

 

Kylo took a step toward her. “I don’t think you understand. This is a one-time offer. Snoke wants to be first, but he _will_ keep everything you’ve worked for if you don’t sign. Is that what you want?” Her expression didn’t change. She stayed silent. Fuck, why was she so stuborn?

 

Another step.

  

“You _need_ to sign the damn paperwork.”

  

“No,” she said like a petulant child learning its new favorite word. She backed up a step as he came forward once more. Did...was that a grin she was trying to hide?

 

“Just do it,” he demanded, losing his patience now. Why had she even come here if they weren’t going to come to some agreement? What had his goddamn mother said on the fucking phone to her?

 

“No,” she breathed as he came up to her, her lower back pressed against the marble of the kitchen island. Her cheeks were flushed. “I’m not signing. I’m leaving.” She didn’t sound very convincing, but she made a half-hearted attempt to slide away from him, but Kylo gripped her biceps and held her firm.

  

Her skin was practically silk underneath his own, and he caught the scent of her perfume, floral and sweet.

 

 

He wasn’t playing this game, he _wouldn’t_. He grasped for what was left of his self-restraint.

 

 

“You need. To sign.” The pads of his thumbs stroked over her arms and he watched the little creature in front of him set the wheels turning. Her eyebrows drew together suddenly, her hazel eyes meeting his. If he’d had a heart, it probably would’ve squeezed in his chest.

  

“Why do you even care what we do? Don’t you want us to lose everything? Don’t you want _her_ to?” She was baiting him, he knew.

 

“I don’t fucking _care_ about the Resistance,” he said darkly, his voice rough in his throat. That much was true.

 

“Then…why me?” Ah, the million dollar question. “Why have _me_ come here?” she asked, and he could tell she truly yearned for an answer. Maybe _she_ was the idiot. He swallowed as he took in her hair, pulled up to show off her long, tanned neck. Her collarbone, freckled by the summer sun, leading down to those pert little breasts, nipples erect through the silken top. Her lips, swollen and red from her biting at them all through their meeting.

  

He realized then she really wasn’t going to sign.

  

Fuck.

 

Her tits brushed against his chest as she squirmed in his grasp.

 

But she stared up at him, waiting for an answer. 

 

Fuck it.

  

“Don’t you already know, little one?” he murmured before crushing his mouth against hers, pulling her against him and swallowing her squeak of surprise and the moan following it. His tongue teased her pliant lips apart, and she hesitantly opened to let him taste her for the first time and _fuck_.

 

 _Yesss_. This was why he’d asked for the girl. Because he knew when everything went to shit, at least he’d have this. Have his little hellcat.

  

Their tongues coiled around each other, slick and hot and angry, and her hands gripped the lapels of his jacket. He missed her lips immediately when he pulled away to attack her neck. _But, fuck, did he love her neck_. He lapped and suckled at it, her keens and moans vibrating against his lips. Her fragrance was even more concentrated here, especially in the little nook under her ear, which he dragged his tongue across, wetting it. He wrapped his arms around her waist when her knees started to shake and her body dipped against his, and then sunk his teeth into the flesh near her shoulder. The sound she made went straight to his dick.

 

She pulled his face back to hers to capture his lips once more, pausing only when he lifted her up and onto the counter, hooking her knees around his hips and groaning when he realized she _wasn’t wearing any fucking panties_.

  

“The fuck were you thinking, walking around with your little pussy bare, hm?” Kylo ground his hips into her, using his hands to press against her ass, forcing their bodies as close as possible.

 

“Lines,” she bit out, and he ducked his head down to kiss her again. “Mmph…panty lines,” she tried again. He let out a puff of laughter as he worked her purse from around her and tossed it to the side before the straps of her top were slid down her arms and her breasts exposed. _Fuck_ , her tits were perfect. Small, but round and full and weighty in his hands. The little buds that adorned each tip stood rosy and erect, and he sucked the right one into his warm mouth.

  

“No underthings at all, little one. Anyone,” he started on the left, “anyone could’ve taken you on the street and fucked you. That what you wanted?” She writhed against him, moaning _no_. “Good girl. Because these are _mine_ aren’t they?” he said as he squeezed her tits, “and _this_ is mine.” He didn’t wait for an answer as he sunk his middle finger into her cunt, meeting no resistance with how slick she was.

 

Those lean legs jerked but tightened around him as he retrieved his finger and quickly sucked her juices off. _Mmm._ It had only been a few days since he’d had her on his tongue, but it felt like longer with how the tang of her almost made him nut in his pants. She looking at him with hooded eyes, panting and wanton. He had to fuck her. Now.

 

Scooping her up, Kylo started the way toward his room. Risky, but he wanted to fucking _destroy_ her and he couldn’t do that comfortably on a slab of marble. His hands roamed and kneaded over the globes of her ass, her skirt long-since ridden up around her hips, his own encased by her legs.

  

Her arms wrapped around his shoulders just as tightly, pulling her face into the crook of his neck. When he felt her mouth pull the flesh of his earlobe into her mouth and _suck_ , he almost changed his mind about the bedroom altogether and dropped her to the floor. But his amazement at her _participation_ fueled him to keep walking steadily. What the _fuck_? He’d thought he’d have a hole in his head by now, courtesy of _her_. But here he was, alive and hard and being tongued by this magnificent creature. Was he going to have to send someone a fucking _thank you_ card?

  

Because now her little teeth were scraping along his neck and holy fuck, he didn’t want to put her down even though he’d come to the foot of his bed, the city lights shining into the darkness to highlight the dark sheets and pillows. He toed of his Prada Oxfords and made the executive now-or-never decision to lower her onto the bed, his body not far behind with her arms and legs still encasing him.

  

She tugged him close to resume their frantic kissing, teeth scraping together, their labored breathing the only sound in the room. He could barely breathe at all, couldn’t tell which puff of air had come from her or him. His brain was starting to shut off. With her help, he mindlessly shed his jacket, then his shirt and pants. She had shimmied out of her skewed top and skirt as well, though she hadn’t had enough time to un-do the clasp of her heels before he was down to his briefs.

  

Her eyes locked onto prominent bulge there, and he swore he could see her mouth begin to water. She reached out to run her tiny, warm palm against him through the fabric and he growled, grabbing her bare wrist in his hand and pulling it away.

  

It was like she was being tortured, the way her body began writhing, back arching and thighs trying their hardest to rub together, blocked by his body there between them. She fucking _whined_.

 

His body bent over hers, nudging against her temple with his nose. Fuck, how did anyone smell so _good_? “Impatient, kitten?” He felt her head bob quickly and he chuckled under his breath. “Me too.” He stripped off his briefs and settled above her, immediately thrusting his thick cock across her folds, covered in a glossy sheen. He could already discern a wet spot on the sheets below her from where she was _dripping_. It was going to be a miracle if he lasted. 

 

“Just,” she shut her eyes and swallowed, “just fuck me already,” she said as she ran her hands down his abs and canted her hips, trying to catch his cock at the right angle to plunge inside her. “Please,” she sobbed, “I—I can’t wait.” A fucking _miracle_.

 

Kylo wanted to tease her. Make her feel _guilty_ for wanting him. She’d put him in fucking jail, held him at gunpoint, and was the cause of his failings on multiple accounts, including tonight. But…he couldn’t. Because right now, they wanted the same thing.

 

He bent over her to snare her mouth with his and coaxed her tongue into his mouth, giving it a suck and sheathing his cock inside her within the same breath.

 

 _“Yes!_ Yes _, fuck_ , yes _,”_ she panted inaudibly against his lips, and he pumped in and out of her cunt again, his hips rolling smoothly against her own. 

 

 

 _God_.

 

_Fucking nirvana._

 

 

He pushed off the bed and kept a firm grip on her waist, beginning to slowly thrust deeper until he bottomed out. She let out a low wail and he let his head drop backward, relishing the sound. _Fuck yes,_ he wanted her to fucking _scream_. He snapped his hips against her once more, his heavy sac squeezed between them, adding to the pressure in the pit of his stomach.

 

 

He had to slow down. _Shit_.

 

 

Pulling out so just the head of his cock kept the lips of her pussy apart, he reach down to take one of her ankles in his calloused hands. He brought up her foot, still encased by the white, strappy heel, and ran his mouth down the skin of her ankle, then her calf, and he cranked her leg back, opening her up impossibly wide. He allowed himself a shallow thrust, then another, as the pad of his thumb found her engorged clit. He massaged it with a light pressure, causing her to gasp and let out little hiccups of pleasure.

  

His cock sunk all the way inside her then, and she actually did scream as her body quaked and her orgasm peaked around him. He pulled out quickly so that the clenching of her muscles couldn’t push him over the edge.

 

Before she could come down, Kylo pulled her up and forced her to face the cushioned headboard. Without telling her to, she lowered her face and shoulders down into the pillows, squirming and wriggling her bum in the air.

  

The _smack!_ was deafening in the room as his open palm made contact with her ass cheek.

 

“What the fuck!?” she sputtered, trying to sit up but failing with his hand pressing down on her back. He smoothed the skin he’d just slapped, watched as the blood bloomed beneath the surface.

  

“You didn’t think there wouldn’t be _some_ kind of consequence, did you?” He smacked the same cheek as before, just as hard.

 

“Ah! Fuck, that stings,” she said, arching and coiling her back like a cat. Kylo leaned down to press his open mouth to the skin this time. Then, breathing her in and unable to resist, he licked a stripe across her wet slit. “Oh god,” she breathed, and he became even harder. Shit, he was trying to get a hold of himself but he didn’t know how that was possible with this goddess at his mercy.

  

So he drew his hand back and roughly spanked the other cheek, the slap almost echoing in the room.

  

Then she _moaned_ , and he could see her little fists grab up the sheets on his bed. Fuck.

  

“I think you liked that, little one,” he panted above her, running his fingers along her spine until he was able to wrap his hand around the column of her neck, pulling her back up against his front. It felt fucking _intimate_ but he didn’t fucking care right now. He squeezed gently as he positioned his cock back against her and _pushed_. “ _Shit_ , baby, you’ve got the tightest little cunt,” he grated as he thrust inside her once more from behind and she whimpered. “You don’t know how much…how long…I’ve wanted to fuck you like this again.”

 

 She turned her head just slightly, his fingers still gripping her throat, but he thought he understood. The length of his cock slid through her heat again, and he tilted her chin up to mash their lips together once more. He fucked her like this for a few more minutes until his spine began tingling and his balls tightened, his cock painfully hard. She’d come again, all over him, and they were both sweating from exertion when he laid himself on the bed, his back resting against the headboard, and brought her to sit on his lap.

  

She gripped his muscled traps with her hands and sunk down on his cock like a good girl. It was fucking _luxurious_.

  

“That’s it,” he whispered with a groan, helping her lift and drop herself against him, “ _yeah_ , that’s it. Ride that big cock, baby.” The wet slapping of their skin quickened as she picked up the pace, her eyes squeezed shut.

  

“Did you think of this when you were riding my face, kitten, hm? Did you want my cock after?” he murmured as she came down especially hard on his cock, causing them both to gasp. She nodded her head as she bounced up and down. “Say it!” he ordered, the flesh of her ass squeezed painfully in his hand.

  

“ _Yes_ ,” she said, this time rolling her pussy over his groin so that his wiry hair and pubic bone made contact with her clit. “Yes, I wanted fucking mortify you”, she gasped, “like you did me, but,” he gripped her cheeks harder, “but you fucked me up….so wrong….I _wanted_ this,” she cried out in shame, and he moaned.

 

Kylo pulled her against his chest by the arms and held her hips still. He pulled one of her nipples into his mouth and gave it a hard suck before releasing it with a pop. “Likewise, sweetheart,” he said, before he pistoned his hips against her, ramming her pussy full of his cock over and over again, her clit bumping against his skin with every thrust. His hardened, muscular arms wrapped around her back to keep her flush against him as he panted into the skin of her chest.

  

“ _Fuck!”_ they were screaming together, and then her moans turned into sobs as he slowed down and reached a hand between them to rub at her clit. “God, yes!” she screamed and dropped her head into his shoulder, her fists claiming handfuls of his hair. “Don’t stop, don’t stop,” she chanted over and over.

“You going to cum again, baby?” he panted, close to the edge himself. Christ, did he want to let go. He tapped her clit again with his thumb, and she keened. “Good kitten, you can come again, I know you can,” he encouraged her roughly, bottoming out again inside her so that his eye rolled back in his head. She had to come soon or he was done for.

 

He smacked her ass _hard_ and she let out a high-pitched scream into his room. “I’m, I’m so close!” she said, biting his neck. “Cum inside me,” she begged, and _motherfuck_ , what? “I’m protected, just, _please god,_ I _need_ your cum in me—“ and before the words had left her mouth he was unable to hold back and was pumping his seed slow and deep into her perfect cunt. He was moaning the loudest he ever had during sex, and he felt her come undone around him for the third time.

 

They were both shivering and limp when their climaxes subsided, and she rolled off of him, leaving a hot and sticky trail of his spend across his stomach and onto the sheets. No doubt it was pooling out of her and on to her thighs, too, he thought, as she lay down beside him. His mind was reeling.

 

  

Holy fuck. Like, _fuck_ , man.

  

 

“What…” he started, _what the fuck was that about???_ , but the words caught in his throat.

 

 

Her eyes were closed, her lips parted in a little pout. “Hey,” he tried again, but she didn’t stir. He’d worn his little hellcat out.

 

 

His masculine pride swelled in his chest. And then the dread set in.

 

 

Kylo scrubbed a hand across his face, ran it through his hair. He let out a breath before sitting up in the bed and pulling his clothes back on.

 

 

Just, _fuck._

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and walked out into the hall. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he made the call.

 

 

“Be there in 10,” he said, when the other end picked up.

  

 

“Looking forward to it.” He could hear Snoke’s purr of approval as the line went dead.

 

 

He padded back into his dark bedroom and let his eyes roam over the little minx in his bed.

 

 

He was in deep shit.

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO WHO HAS PLAYED KICK THE CAN!? Anybody? No one? Okay.
> 
> A few things:
> 
> Some of you want Rey to be like, big and bad and mean and shoot people. And that's ok. Because maybe that's coming. But I just love Kylo so much and he's my favorite and, yes, I'm sorry he had to turn good there for a minute? Maybe? But then back to the bad guy? Idk? Trust.
> 
> But I just wanted them to have some actual consensual sex this time and let both of them get their rocks off. Like, come on, wasn't that nice?
> 
> "But that's way OOC for this story!!!" *ducks behind curtain* 
> 
> *still talking from behind the curtain* but Rey has been thrown for a loop and still wants her frands but is also like what the fuck, Leia? anddd she really wants the D, has really always wanted the D, so what was I *supposed* to do when she liked his cufflinks?  
>    
> 


	5. seven years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> posting this in a sleep-deprived, sick state & will check later for grammar/spelling errors and change as appropriate. I gotta get it out there immediately after writing or I will hesitate and never post muahahah.

* * *

 

 

 

 

The metal fold-out chair she was bound to was cold against her legs. Like she was being forced to attend one of those baby showers at a church reception hall in the middle of summer, where the influx of tithe money meant a killer AC system that made all the prim and proper ladies wearing dresses jump a little when they sat down in the ready-to-go-for-another-barbeque seating.  It pissed Rey off.

 

 

In fact, she was irate. Livid.

 

 

One, because she was cold. And cuffed at the wrists with her arms looped over the back of the chair, her feet roped to the legs.

 

 

Two, because she’d been woken out of a blissful slumber only to be instructed to throw her clothes on, quickly, before she was pushed into an elevator and dragged to where she sat struggling now.

 

 

And third. Because the guy she’d just gloriously fucked was the same one who'd forced her down here and now stood shoulder to shoulder before her with the lord of the gremlin legion himself, Edmund Snoke. 

 

 

“Miss Rey,” the old sack of dicks addressed her. He, too, was wearing a suit, charcoal grey with a red tie. But not a vibrant shade of red. The dark kind. Like blood. “So nice of you to meet me. Apologies for the mode of transport. Didn’t think you’d come very willingly, if what I’ve heard about you is to be believed.” He smiled as he walked around her, and Rey wanted to gag. His teeth were jagged and yellow, a stark comparison to his well-tailored blazer and trousers, and the hair on his head was thin and combed over in attempt to disguise the blatant balding patch. His cologne permeated her personal space and no doubt filled the entirety of the room.

  

 

If you could call it a room. Rey couldn’t discern exactly where they were, but it had to be linked to the same building as _Ben_ ’s _,_ or _Ren’s_ , or whatever the fuck _his_ name was. They’d gone down, down into the belly of this place, and her surroundings only screamed _warehouse_ , what with all the crates and cranes and machinery that she noted. It made her feel small. It wasn’t a feeling she appreciated.

 

 

Maybe she had been wrong about Leia. Maybe she shouldn’t have flushed the wire. It could have been for her safety. God she was so _stupid_ , of _course_ , that had been it. It could have been a tracking device…She felt bile rolling in her stomach. 

 

 

Snoke tried again. “Do you know why you’re here, little girl?” He made to lift her chin with his wrinkled finger, and she jerked her head away. She stared him down, the ugly motherfucker, but she kept her mouth shut. Little girl, her _ass_.

 

 

The ancient bastard rocked back on his heels and cackled. “Fiesty!” He sneered down at her. “And so _loyal_ ,” he said, like the word itself was bitter on his tongue. He shrugged, and the action made the bands of platysma in his neck become even more folded. “Well, since you won’t ask, I suppose I’ll ruin my own fun and tell you.” Snoke beckoned the other occupant of the room to his side with two fingers. Leia’s son immediately stepped forward, handing him his phone. She could feel his eyes on her, making her itch.

 

  

She wouldn’t look at him. Oh, she’d not blinked, not flinched _once_ at Snoke. But she refused to spare a glance at _him_.

 

 

Because at first, she’d wanted to cry. Now she wanted to bust a cap in his dick.

 

 

She’d felt betrayed, even though she couldn’t wrap her mind around why. It was just….for a moment….she’d thought maybe they were on the same page. That there was something between them that went beyond The Resistance, The First Order. Her, and a felon.

 

 

A severe fucking lapse in judgement that was. And on her part. Rey would have to live with it, along with all of this other _shit_ , for the rest of her life. If she had one left after tonight. All because of her _fucking_ hormones, a fleeting sense of loneliness, and a walking set of washboard abs.

 

 

He wouldn’t survive the night if she had anything to do with it. She made a silent vow to herself.

 

 

“Jesus, Ren, what did you do to the poor thing?” Silence. “She’s practically shaking. Nicely done,” he smirked, giving Ren a look. “Though you could’ve been more discreet.” She saw Snoke run a finger around his collar. And she felt the realization sink in that she probably bore his marks on her flesh. Felt them bloom on her neck and chest. Evidence.

 

 

_Oh god._

 

 

Drinking wouldn’t help after tonight. She’d need to check herself into an institution.

 

 

“Sir.” It was all he said in return. Coward.

 

 

Snoke turned back to her. “So. Rey,” he tapped his smartphone against his leg as he stepped in front of her once again. “My offer, as I’m sure you already know, is up. Zip. Nada. No more. Lucky for me, I always have a Plan B. And lucky for you, I’m a patient man.” He smiled at her again. “I told _the great Kylo Ren_ to request you for tonight, because I was _sure_ he would be able to persuade you, given your…. _history.”_

_Dear god_ , kill her now. Not only had he not truly _wanted_ _her_ , like she’d let herself believe, but he had told this bastard about their previous encounters? _Fuck_ if she didn’t want to bury herself alive.

 

 

And Kylo Ren? What a fucking _douche_ name.

 

“But no. He failed me. Again.” Snoke stopped his pacing in front of her and looked behind him where _Kylo_ stood, now dressed in the familiar black jeans and hoodie get-up, his hands clasped in front of him, staring straight ahead, unblinking. He’d forgotten to take off his Rolex.

 

 

 “So I took action,” Snoke said, and faced her once more. “And made another offer.”

 

 

Snoke bent over and fucking _pet_ her hair. Then grabbed it. Hard. He bent down to whisper in her ear. His breath reeked of cigarette smoke and periodontitis. “I hear you’re quite the accomplished chemist, Rey. Rivaling the General herself, yes?” Snoke jerked away roughly. Rey kept her eyes downcast. It was true, she was talented. After all, without notable connections and no offers for work before the Resistance, she’d put her everything into proving her worth, into pulling her weight and showing _everyone_ that she was meant to be there. The fact that she’d turned formula after formula into product was just a bonus. And one Snoke needn’t know about. “Oh, we’ve got proof, darling. I’m impressed,” he said offhandedly. “And it’s not easy to impress me.”  

 

 

He ran a thumb over her cheek and she wanted to gag. “You’re going to work with me, girl,” he said, and his thumb moved over her down her neck and over her collarbone, light as a feather. She was trembling, but not with want. With outrage. She heard movement behind Snoke, like an audible swallow, but she refused to acknowledge it. Instead, she focused on steadying her breathing. “You’re going to work for the First Order. And like it, for at least a year. Your contract has been transferred.”

 

 

What?

 

 

“Fuck. You.” Rey spat, and her head snapped to the side with a sharp crack as the back of Snoke’s hand made contact with her cheek. She saw stars.

 

 

“Is that the way you speak to your employer? Leia promised you’d be more professional, Rey.” The pounding in her head worsened, the kaleidoscope of glitter behind her eyes only increased.

 

  
“Wh-what?” she croaked. No….

 

 

Snoke was dialing. Then holding up his phone in front of her face.

 

 

Leia.

 

 

“Rey.”

 

 

“Mrs. Solo?”

 

 

Leia sighed on screen. She was still in all white, matching Rey’s own attire. She had a glass of wine in her hand.

 

 

“You said she wouldn’t be harmed, Snoke.”

 

 

“She’s good as new, General. If you want to keep it that way, make our little Rey here understand our agreement. She’s having a hard time grasping her new role.”

 

 

Leia put her wine down on a nearby side table and looked directly at Rey through the phone. “Rey….”

 

 

“No!” Rey screamed. “He is lying! I’m sorry, I tried, I did!” She was struggling in the seat now, uncaring if she looked a fool.

 

 

“Listen to me, Rey. It’s all right. I was never going to agree to those terms. I’ve worked too hard on these plans to give all the credit away. But I need it all _back_ , Rey. I know you understand.”  She didn’t. She really didn’t.

 

 

“No, no! Just...why….why even let me come tonight?” Tears were coursing down her cheeks but she couldn’t feel them. Things clicked into place. Snoke had a grin creeping upwards on his face.

 

 

“It’s just a year, Rey. The Resistance gets this victory as long as Snoke can be promised the next one. He knows how much you can do for their company. You’ll give that to him, I know it. You’re a brilliant chemist, Rey. I can handle cutting my losses for a year. Then you can come back to us.”

 

 

Rey was shaking her head. It didn’t make any sense. She didn’t _want_ to work for Snoke. She hadn’t even been asked, like a child. Like she was _disposable_. Rey sniffled. Did she really not matter? Did her work not? It apparently did to Snoke. Why not Leia? Was she so short-sighted to favor a release of her goddamn jets over her? She had to ask.

 

 

“Were you tracking me?” Rey asked, quietly.

 

 

The image of Leia stilled, her brow creasing. “What are you talking about, Rey?”

 

 

Rey clenched her fists behind her back. “Or was it a wire? Tell me.”

 

 

Recognition flared in the General’s eyes. “It was just a precaution, Rey.”

 

 

She nodded. Sunk back into the rickety chair.

 

 

God, this hurt. _Rey_ hurt.

 

 

“No.”

 

 

Snoke stepped closer. “General…”

 

 

“Rey….”

 

 

“I said no. I’m not working for _either_ of you traitorous, back-stabbing—“

 

 

Suddenly, the cold steel of a switchblade was at her throat, the thin edge of it barely pressing into her skin. Snoke peered down at her, slowly speaking as he edged the knife closer. “General. You swore this. This is your last option. If the girl doesn’t agree, she dies and so does everything you’ve worked for. One. More. Chance.”

 

 

Rey heard panic in Leia’s voice for the first time. “Rey. _Please_.”

 

 

But she couldn’t.

 

 

She wouldn’t.

 

 

Because if the people she’d thought were family had offered her up on a platter to their worst enemy, what was the point in trying anymore?

 

 

Rey closed her eyes. Opened them again, focusing on one person in the room. She took a shaky breath, and choked out the word.

 

 

 “No.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

  

 

 

It was official. As in, a trip to the courthouse for a fucking notary stamp to seal the goddamn deal _official_ that this was the fucking worst night of his life. When it had fairly recently been the best. Thus was a day in the life of Kylo Ren.

 

 

He’d tried not to feel bad about it when he’d duped her.

 

 

Really, he had.

 

 

But what did she expect?

 

 

He’d all but raped her once, had been in jail just months ago, and he worked for a sadistic bastard who got off on giving Kylo’s own mother the shaft. He wasn’t a _great_ guy, even by his standards.

 

 

So why did he, well, feel a little bad?

 

 

Yeah, she’d looked pretty goddamn cute all curled up on his bed after they’d fucked the shit out of each other, but that was hardly a reason to reexamine the entirety of his moral code.

 

 

And so instead of dwelling on the feeling, he’d grabbed the gun she’d stashed in her handbag (it _had_ been heavy when he’d taken it off her and he wasn’t stupid), shaken her awake to dress, and manhandled her into the elevator. Sure, she’d struggled against him, kicking and scratching the whole way, but he’d still managed to literally steal a few open mouthed kisses and jam his tongue inside her mouth a few more times before the doors opened and he came back into himself and tied her all up. If he’d had a blindfold and some motherfucking _privacy_ , he’d have been as pleased as punch. No doubt she’d be too. But he had neither of those things. Just Snoke telling him what to do and how to do it.

 

 

Because, like a good dog, he’d done everything Snoke had asked, had brought the girl down when the deal went South.

 

 

As they’d both figured it would. Yet Snoke had hinted he’d ask the girl to join them when the time came, and Kylo had forced himself not to laugh outright in his face.  

 

 

Snoke hadn’t told him that he’d made a deal with his bitch of a mother behind his back to make sure she would.

 

 

That fucking pissed him off.

 

 

And so now he stood, just watching, as his jackass boss talked between his cunt mother and his little hellcat. Who had a bruise forming across her cheek.

 

 

Kylo clenched his fist at noticing and gulped down the urge to slam Snoke against the wall by his throat. That wouldn’t do.

 

 

Because she didn’t matter. She didn’t.

 

 

But when he saw the flash of a blade against her supple neck, the very neck he’d kissed and licked and suckled on earlier in the night, he started to think otherwise.

 

 

 _Shit_.

 

 

Kylo took a step forward from where he’d stood, reaching out a hand. No one noticed him. He put it back down. _Fuck_ , this was ridiculous.

 

 

She needed to just fucking agree to work with them. He couldn’t believe his mother had put her in this position to begin with.

 

 

Well, he _could_.

 

 

It was actually pretty fucking spot-on for her.

 

 

But he was a dick.

 

 

This girl, _Rey,_ well what had she really done to deserve being brought into this?

 

 

He felt his gut being punched with guilt when he realized _he_ had brought her into this.

 

 

 _Shitttt_.

 

 

He heard his mother pleading with her. Saw Snoke press the blade tighter. Watched as the girl who’d just been in his bed closed her eyes.

 

  

Then looked _right at him_. For the first fucking time since they’d been down here. Kylo felt her stare spread through his limbs like fucking electricity.

 

  

He’d reached for the .367 before she’d even said the word and before he could blink, Snoke was limp on the concrete in a crimson puddle of blood.

 

 

His ears were ringing from the shot and _fuck_ did he just _murder his boss_?!

 

 

But it was too late to ponder these inconsequential perplexities. He had to get to her. 

 

 

Kylo stepped over Snoke’s body and the borrowed phone, now cracked and broken at the impact with the ground. He untied her feet, then retrieved the key to the cuffs at her hands behind her back.

 

 

He couldn’t decipher what the expression she wore revealed; she looked at him like he was either god or the devil, and he was in too much of a state to ask which.

 

 

For the first time in a long time he felt…embarrassed? The fuck for _what_ though _?_ He’d just saved her life.

 

 

_But why?_

 

 

Fuck.

 

 

She still had tear streaks running from her kohl-rimmed eyes to her chest. She stood up, wobbly, and he tried to steady her with his own hands from his crouched position. She roughly pushed him away as she stooped down to grab the gun he’d placed by her feet as he untied her.

 

 

“Listen, we need to leave,” he tried, looking at her from under his lashes. He suddenly wanted to run his hands over her ankles and soothe the marks the ropes had left, massage her shoulders to rid them of the ache the awkward angle of her sitting had caused. But he couldn’t let her see that longing.

 

  

He tried to stand up. She stopped him by holding the gun to his head.

 

 

He lifted his eyes to hers this time. What he saw terrified him.

 

 

“I promised I’d kill you, you know that?” She said slowly, gently even, cocking the magnum against his skull. He felt the _click!_ as the mechanism locked into place. “When I realized what you’d done. That you’d _planned_ this.” She was shaking a little, but her arms were straight, her wrists locked in the perfect aim.

 

 

He looked at her steadily now. “I didn’t. Come on. I knew I might have to bring you to him, but I didn’t know anything about _her_ —“

 

 

“Shut _up!_ ” she seethed through her teeth. “After,” he saw her swallow, “after everything, how could you do it? I didn’t _trust_ you, but, I-I—” 

 

 

“I know…” he said, slowly reaching a hand to up her wrist, “I’m…sorry.”

 

 

As soon as his skin made contact with hers the gun sounded, and Kylo felt the heat from the barrel sear across his flesh. She’d blasted the magnum up into the air, he concluded when he realized he wasn’t dead. A warning.

 

 

The gun cocked again. “You’re not sorry. You don’t give a _damn_ about what you’ve done.”

 

 

 _This bitch_.

 

 

He didn’t give a _fuck_ anymore.

 

 

“I said I'm _sorry_! I _killed_ that bastard for you! I saved your _life,_ you ungrateful little—“

 

 

 _BOOM_!

 

 

The gun went off again, this time right beside his head. The noise from the shot was deafening and blasted him onto his back. He rolled around, gripping his head, trying to press out the noise and heat. When Kylo could hear his own thoughts again, Rey was leaning over him, sitting astride his hips, and his hand came away bloody.

 

 

“You shot me,” he said in disbelief. She _shot_ him.

 

 

She fucking _laughed._  “I didn’t. Just grazed your ear a bit. My bad…” She leaned closer and ran her fingers through his hair, making him wince when she came to the blood already clotting on the side of his head.

 

 

 _My_ fucking _bad_? He realized too late how goofy his smirk must’ve looked.

 

 

Was this fucking _love_ or some shit? What else would make him giddy as fuck after being fucking _shot_?

 

 

“Thank you.” She wouldn’t look at him before. Now she refused to look away. “I’m grateful. But I don’t know why you did it….”

 

 

Didn’t she?

 

 

Did _he_?

 

 

“Rey…”

 

 

He watched the ghost of a smile grace her lips. “K-Kylo? Ben?”

 

 

She asked an unspoken question he didn’t have the answer to.

 

 

So he pulled her flush against him to bring her lips to his, and she let him.

 

 

Their mouths fused, blaming and thanking each other, while their bodies rolled on the concrete, mere feet away from where Snoke lay unresponsive. Kylo had her pinned beneath him as he sank his teeth in the soft flesh of her neck, drawing her own blood to match his own, cradling her bruised cheek in his hand. Rey arched her back and mewled for him and _fuck_ if he didn’t want to hear that sound every day of his goddamn life.

 

 

She dragged both her hands down his back under his shirt as he pushed her skirt up and cursed himself when he realized she’d been sitting before Snoke without panties just minutes before this.

 

 

He was _hers_. Snoke didn’t matter now.

 

 

They worked quickly together at the opening of his jeans and when his cock was finally free, he felt her hum in approval and desire as its length bobbed against his hard stomach. He felt like he was going to _burst_.

 

 

“God, I want you again, please,” she was muttering as she wiggled her hips under him, sliding her arms up his biceps and squeezing.

 

 

He sunk into her then as if his life depended on it, groaning at how fucking _good_ she felt _,_ and rested his forehead in the crook of her shoulder as he started pumping her full of his cock. This wasn’t want. This was _need_.

 

 

Their hips snapped against each other quickly, the noise of flesh against flesh and their labored breathing the only sounds in the space.

 

 

Kylo felt like he was being reborn. This was his renaissance.

 

 

Her pussy was clenching and unclenching around him and the way she was dragging her nails down his back only caused his thrusts to deepen until she was screaming, _wailing_ really, into the open room. God, she was _everything_.

 

 

“Fuck, you always take my cock so good, don’t you, baby?” He kissed her jaw. Sucked her neck. Her body was drawing up tight, her back arching and pushing her little tits against his firm chest. He wished he’d taken all their clothes off just to feel her, but they couldn’t wait. Next time. For now, he opted for raking his teeth over one of the nipples that pebbled through her shirt. 

 

 

He felt her purr around him, felt her curl a hand in his hair. "Mmmm, _shit_ ," she was moaning with each thrust and gasping as she reached below and between them and cupped his sac in her dainty little hand, rolling it in her palm as he worked himself inside her.  _Fuck_! He ground his pelvis at an angle that hit her clit as a reward. "I-I wanna cum, please, baby, harder," she begged him and holy fuck he had to listen. 

 

 

He put all his weight into his forearms as he ground his hips into her, feeling every inch of her skin as his body rolled over and jostled hers, each time sinking into her balls deep. She was so fucking  _wet_ and  _warm_ and kept pleading him for  _more, more, more!_ as her legs started to shake around his hips. 

 

 

Kylo smirked down at her. "You greedy little whore," he said fondly, and she moaned as he licked her neck, “I fucking,” he thrust hard into her cunt, “ _killed_ someone for you, little one…”

 

 

“ _Yes_ , oh my _god_ , fuck!” She shouted out and clung to him, quaking, as her orgasm crashed around her, pulling him in closer and causing his own release. He pistoned into her until she’d milked all the seed from his cock and her little nips across his neck had stilled. Fuck, fuck,  _fuck._ He was spent. 

 

 

There they lay then, just breathing.

 

 

This one would definitely go down in the books, he thought. The sex. The murder. Everything. 

  

 

Kylo rolled off Rey with a groan and looked to the side. He could see Snoke. Dead. The liquid had finished leaking from him now, and the vibrancy of the fresh blood was now dulling to a brownish black. He squeezed his eyes shut and focused on the warmth of Rey beside him, how slick her body felt against his after their coupling. He recalled the taste of her skin again, dewey with sweat.

 

 

Fuck. What were they supposed to do now? Instead of scratching his head, he pulled her tighter against him. A reminder of where he was. That this was  _real_.

 

 

And yet, maybe this was a dream. Or a nightmare. A good nightmare?

 

 

Minutes passed, their two bodies sweating in a heap on the concrete.

 

 

Finally, Kylo spoke, whispering into her hair.

 

 

“Come on. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Believe it or not, I don't dislike Leia, I just felt like writing her as a stone cold bitch. We're cool still. 
> 
> Corny? Eh maybe. Couldn't have Kylo just rob her all the damn time though, even though that would be, well, great. And kinda funny. 
> 
> next chapter will be an epilogue of sorts maybe? there are a lot of questions kinda out there still. or this may be it. because I like open ended thingies. regardless, THANK YOU for your amazing responses to these two weirdos and my inconsistent posting. MUAH. You guys have been THE BEST. xoxoxo
> 
> But seriously. Thank you to every single person who has read, kudo'ed, or commented. <3 Means the world, guys.


	6. grand slam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....hi? 
> 
> out of my cave for .2 seconds. actually decided to add a bit and uh, ta-daaaaaa. 
> 
> THANK YOU to people who have commented. I haven't gotten to the ones from the last chapter, but know I so so so so appreciate every single one. like. every single one. I want to kiss all of you.
> 
>  
> 
> special big ups to greyorchidgirl for commenting and reminding me of this story xoxo to you XD
> 
> ((((sorry about typos in advance. I'll get them at some point!))))

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

 

The speed limit was posted at sixty miles per hour.

 

 

He was drifting across lanes at ninety-five.

 

 

If they got pulled over, they were probably fucked. Like, the kind of probably that meant _definitely_.

 

Kylo Ren took a second to work his knuckles into the corners of his eyes, now almost swollen shut from exhaustion, attempting unsuccessfully to rub away the tiredness. They’d been driving for _days,_ and his back ached, his brain was fucking _mush_ , and he really needed to take a piss _._ The adrenaline that had been a non-stop pumping through his blood was now at an all-time low. He didn’t even know where they _were_. Because amidst sporadic naps at rest stops and running in and out of random gas stations for food, he didn’t even know where they were _going_.

 

And she was eating fucking _Bugles_. God, she was repulsive.

 

“Get your feet off my dash,” he intoned. He didn’t need to look. She’d been propping them up there with no regard for the fine leather since they’d stopped at the last convenience store.

 

“Go to hell.” All right, then.

 

He tried not to sigh like a little bitch, but it slipped. He was calling it.

 

“I’m going to stop,” he told her, bracing himself for her panic. “I’m fucking tired.”

 

She scrambled to sit up and turn to him, dropping her bag of corn horns to the floor in her hurry. _Fucking really?_ He glanced over at her, quickly, just to prove himself right and give himself a mental pat on the back for his knowing her. She looked terrified.

 

She’d been this way since it began. Since they’d all but dove into his black sedan and fucking _punched_ it. Every time he stopped for fuel, for snacks, for anything, she freaked. And he couldn’t blame her. He did to a degree. But he’d quit fucking caring about what happened to _him_ as soon as his finger had pulled the trigger.

 

But she still feared for her life, his good girl. He liked to think she feared for his too. Just a smidge. And if they didn’t stop they couldn’t get recognized, or be taken out of their fairyland, automotive home they’d made in such a short time. It was starting to drain him.

 

Still. If anything was certain, it was death, taxes, and Rey flipping the fuck out when he mentioned stopping the car.

“I told you I could drive. I don’t mind,” she tried, as if she didn’t know his answer. Like hell she would. “Really.”

 

“Funny,” he responded, as if it were anything but that. He wanted to _sleep_. In a _bed_. He couldn’t give two shits at this point if it were in a Ritz or the Days Inn. _That’s_ how fucking tired he was.

 

“Please, just a little while longer?” It killed her to ask. He knew it did. She was stubborn, a hell-raiser. And she was practically whining.

 

He scrubbed his face with a hand and, _god_ , he needed to shave.

 

“No,” he said firmly, a tad louder than he intended. She huffed. “I need to _sleep_ , sweetheart. _You_ need to sleep. It’ll be fine...”

 

She didn’t say anything back.

 

Good. They’d gone through this a thousand times already. It was time she listened.

 

He assumed he’d finally won the battle when she faced frontward again, staring out into the night through the windshield with her arms crossed. He sped by an exit sign that boasted two hotels to the right, so he put his blinker on to take the ramp.

 

She was tired too – she had to be. He was trying to be a stand-up guy, here.

 

And yet when she reached to turn up the radio, he noticed how her little fingers were trembling.

 

_Goddamnit._

 

“I’ll keep going until we hit a state line. Then I’m dragging your ass out of this fucking car.” He felt her _vibrate_ in content beside him. He flipped his signal off and merged back over to the left lane, picking up speed once again. She may have murmured a small thanks under her breath, but he couldn’t be sure. Because he was so damned fatigued his hearing was likely failing. He cracked the window to let some fresh air hit his face like a brick wall. Fucking pussy-whipped bastard.

 

Just a while longer.

 

“Want one?” she asked, picking up the bag of Bugles and offering it to him as a sign of gratitude. In a short amount of time, he’d learned she did _not_ readily share her “food”. Kylo nudged her wrist away with his elbow.

 

“Get that shit out of my face,” he said lightly, biting his tongue hard to keep his grin at bay. He was dealing with a fucking child.

 

“Your loss.”

  

 

* * *

 

 

 

They were two weeks in and sitting at a back booth at Denny’s when he realized something wasn’t…. _right_.

 

Kylo stole glances at her in between his bites of plain toast and sips of black coffee, watching as she devoured portion by portion of her Grand Slam, only slowing down to fiddle with her new phone.

 

He had one too, but he’d kept it in his pocket, not wanting to be hunched over the damned gadget like some twelve-year old brat who’d grow up with a trust fund and lack of social skills. They’d (he’d) bought a pair of phones on their latest run for necessities when it was decided having phones again was, well, a necessity. He’d made sure their old ones had been trashed. Because god only knew what kind of tracking Snoke, or Leia – especially Leia – had placed. They couldn’t run any risks at this point.

  

But after a couple of weeks, even he couldn’t deny they had to be connected to society in _some_ way. And it was clear neither of them were going to be _making any fucking friends_ anytime soon. So he’d paid for them. In cash. And now she was just eating whatever greasy mess was on her plate and staring at the phone. How had fucking _Denny’s_ become their breakfast go-to? He’d fucking grand slammed the contents of his intestines into the toilet bowl after the first time she’d gotten him to eat here. And yet here they sat. And something was off.

 

 

She’d waited too long in between bites for him to think nothing was wrong.

 

 

Had she found something online? Had they been found out? That had been his mind went automatically. But that had been the first thing they’d done with the internet once again at their fingers, to look at all the news sources to see if his name had been leaked, connected. So far, he was in the clear.

 

 

“What is it…” he broached, a demand more than a question. She tucked the smartphone away quickly into her lap and picked up her fork again.

 

 

“Nothing,” she said casually around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

 

 

That fucking rattled him. _Fucking nothing?_ He blinked once, but she didn’t see. She was boring a hole into her eggs. Okay. He could play.

 

 

Kylo nodded slowly. Drained his cuppa Joe.

 

 

And dropped it. Kept his eyes on the scuffs on the table, out the window, watching as mullets and diesel trucks passed his line of sight. He looked at anything to keep from drilling her with questions like he wanted to do. He willed his blood pressure down. One of his doctors had once mentioned medidating or some shit. He tried to let each of his thoughts pass like a fucking cloud, _without fucking judgement_ , but he was failing rapidly. _Nothing_? He knew what _nothing_ looked like. This wasn’t it. He was basically driving this girl across the country on _his dime_ and she wanted to play coy? Why was he doing this again? Oh yeah, because he’d fucking murked someone for her too. But it was nothing. Sure. Fine.

 

When she was finished, he was still steaming, but neither of them said anything so he paid for their meal and they left. Back to the hotel. Tonight, it was the Marriott.

 

 

Ah, luxury.

 

 

His jaw was aching with how forcefully he was clenching his teeth as they rode up quietly on the elevator. She thumbed at a fray on her jeans the whole time. The fucking _air_ felt awkard. Jesus, what in the _fuck_ was going on?

 

 

He made to scan the key to their room and opened it for her to walk in first because he was a fucking _gentleman_.

 

 

And as soon as she cleared the threshold, he lunged forward with lightning speed to grab her arms behind her back and shove her face-forward onto the bed.

 

 

“What the FUCK, Kylo!?” she was screaming, her feet kicking in the air from where her legs dangled off the mattress. He pressed her wrists tighter against her back and dragged his hand against her ass, giving it a firm squeeze, before he wiggled out her phone and started to work his fingers over the screen. “STOP!” she was struggling with all her might now, poor little thing. If he weren’t so hell-bent on finding out what had bothered her, his dick would be ever harder than it already was.

 

 

He’d scanned the call list first. Nothing dialed, received, or missed. Texts were next.

 

 

His thumb froze over a single number and his grip tightened on her. He opened it.

 

 

**_Did you know? I want the truth. Please._ **

****

**_REY!?!?! Omg, Rey, is this you!? I’ve been texting you like non-stop! Where are you??? Wtf where have you been!? What happened!?_ **

 

**_Yes. It’s me. I’m….ok. Just tell me, did you?_ **

****

**_I thought you were dead! Holy fuck! Know what, honey? Where are you? I’ll come get you!! Just send me the address._ **

 

 

And….that was it. _Mother. Fucker._

“You fucking _contacted_ someone!?!” He let her move under him, holding the phone out of her reach. “Are you fucking stupid!?”

 

 

After thrashing around for a few minutes, her muscles likely spent, she relented.

 

 

“P-Poe.” The fuck?

 

 

“What?”

 

 

“It – it was just Poe.”

 

 

If he wanted to see any color other than red, that didn’t help. He tossed the phone in her general direction, not caring where it landed.

 

 

 _Just_ Poe _?_

 

 

God, he _hated_ fucking Dameron.

 

 

Abruptly, he got up from the bed and paced in front of the balcony door. He ran a hand over his mouth and laughed out loud with zero amusement. She had contacted _Dameron_??? Out of all the people in the world, she’d reached out to her _ex?_ His mother’s _lap dog_? She could’ve called literally anyone fucking else. The irony was ripping him to fucking _shreds_.

 

 

Kylo could feel her standing behind him, waiting for him to wrangle his thoughts. He whirled around and found her standing there, eyes glittering and arms crossed.

 

 

“I don’t know why it’s such a big deal. I didn’t give anything away. I just…need to know.” An explanation. Cute. He was shaking his head. “He…he was one of my closest friends.”

 

 

He didn’t fucking care what Dameron was. What was _he?_ Had Dameron ever done what _he_ had for her? This was _bullshit._ Previous ties were obsolete at this point. Those "friends" had betrayed her. He hadn't. Out of all the people she could trust, he'd been pretty positive she could put him at the top of her fucking list now. But instead, she'd lied to him and blown him off. To even think that she could be hoping, wishing to be back with _Dameron_ instead of him made his skin crawl and his stomach feel sick. Fuck that. Let her. He'd allowed that door to be wide open.

 

He stepped to her then and bent his neck to her level, speaking lowly with grit in his throat.

 

 

“You can go back him and my mother and fuck both of them then. Snoke’s gone. You’re welcome.”

 

 

And fucking _hell._ He felt the reverberation of her flat palm sting against his face. His cheek would be swollen tomorrow, but honestly he was so furious he didn’t even care. He made for the bathroom but felt her hand on his bicep, gripping hard enough to bruise. He noticed how her eyes were swimming, tears falling freely past her lashes now when she spun him around. Good.

 

 

“You fucking jackass! How dare you!? You _know_ I would never go back! And I never _asked_ you to do me any favors!” She was breathing hard and her face was pink. His teeth were going to be ground to dust at this point. His silence spurred her on. “He….Finn….I don’t know. They were my _family_. I never had anyone else, because,” she threw her arms up, “foster care, whatever! I thought you’d understand the whole fucked up family thing, okay!?” She cackled then, tears streaming now. “I don’t know why. I should leave though. You’re right.”  

 

 

She made a beeline around him, and before he could register her monologue, the bathroom door was shut in his face.

 

 

Oh.

 

 

_Shit._

 

 

His fist was on the door in a heartbeat.

 

 

“Hey!” He pounded again. “Come back out here!” Smooth. He thumped the wood over and over again until his hand hurt.

 

 

_Rey._

_Damnit, just come out and talk to me_.

 

_Sweetheart._

_I ordered pizza and it just got here_.

 

He tried everything, but there was no response.

 

He simply hadn’t known. But he hadn’t thought to ask. He didn’t have _friends_ or _family._ He didn’t care to. But he’d never considered she might. His chest felt heavy with the weight of _letting down_ again. Letting her down. When it shouldn’t even _matter,_ but somehow they were on this fucking ride and just, ugh. She thought he’d understand. Why hadn’t he?

 

 

Jesus, because he was a fucking _dick._

 

 

The longer he mulled over recent events, the more his head hurt. And eventually, his emotional state rendered him to the bed and he slept.

 

 

When he woke, it was to the jingle of keys. He felt like he’d just been ran over by a semi. He let one eye fall open and saw Rey, in her dark, frayed jeans and tank top, making for the door.

 

 

“Where are you going?” he called out softly, voice still young from sleep.

 

 

She stilled. _Please_. Her little shoulders shrugged. “Leaving,” she answered simply.

 

 

Their eyes were on each other as he got up from the bed and approached her. Cautiously. Like she was a skittish cat he’d found in an alley. His fingers dwarfed hers as he tried to gently pry the keys out of her own, but they held firm.

 

 

“Hey,” He tugged the keys again, the metal cold and unyielding in his grasp. Her hand was warm. “Stay.”

 

 

“Whatever this is,” she whispered, “It’s toxic. It’s not healthy.”

 

 

Fair.

 

 

He didn’t give a fuck.

 

 

He knew she didn’t either.

 

 

 

“I….sweetheart, I didn’t know. What I said,” he visibly gulped like a fucking _nerd_. “Shit, I’m fucking trash at this.” He pulled her closer. “Text Dameron. Or you know, don’t. I don’t fucking care.”

 

 

She looked at him incredulously. Her eyes were darkening. _Fuck,_ could he rewind this whole day?

 

 

“I mean, what I mean to say is….Rey….I walked away from my family.” God, he had never been such a fucking _sap_ , but every word he said was true. What if things had been different? What if his parents had given a damn about him and he’d left? Would they have felt like he did now? “Don’t make the same mistake.”

 

 

He’d confused her.

 

 

“I told you. I don’t have a family.” He swallowed. Tipped her chin up.

 

 

He had to look at her lips. He couldn’t say it looking at her. He would burst.

 

 

“We can be each other’s family,” he said, almost too quiet to hear, “if you want.”

 

 

Kylo was too fucking terrified of what she’d say to that, so he crushed his lips quickly against hers to smother her response.

 

 

He pulled her arms around his thick waist and heard the keys clank on the carpet. She wasn’t recoiling, so _that_ was a sign. She let him lay her out flat on the bed and work her top up her taut stomach, skimming his nose up her flesh and in between her breasts before he heard her whimper.

 

“We barely even know each other.”

 

 

The cups of her bra were being pushed up with his thumbs as he chuckled.

 

 

“Oh, little one, I know you,” he smirked as his lips closed around a rosy nipple, sucking the warm flesh into his mouth. He knew the keen she’d let out. And when she did, he leered up at her as if to say, _See_?

 

 

With her help, her jeans were removed and he buried his face in between her thighs, knowing the seam of her underwear would be wet when he licked a wide strip up the center of the fabric. And he knew when he hooked a finger to pull her panties aside so he could plunge his tongue inside her heat, her fingers would clutch at his hair and hold his head in place. Tilt her hips up just so. Say _more,_ _please, fuck,_ or all three.

 

 

When she came apart and flooded his mouth, he drank every predictable bit up because he _fucking loved it._

It still rendered him shocked, however, that instead of pulling his cock out and asking him to take her, she slowly sat up on her knees and pull his shorts down instead. She palmed him slowly, eyes never breaking contact with the thick shaft in her hands.

 

 

He let out a ragged breath when she popped him into her mouth and flicked the tip of her tongue over the swollen head, appearing to savor the taste of precum that had gathered.

 

“Fuck, baby,” he spat, petting her hair, smoothing it away to see her face. She looked so fucking sexy with her mouth stuffed full of his cock, and his hips jerked up on their own, causing her to gag around his length. He felt the muscles of her throat close around him, and _was he going to fucking cum already?_

 

 

She bobbed up and down, sucking with all the right pressure and fondling his balls in her hand _just_ the way he liked, when she pulled away and he almost fucking _died_. She continued stroking him, her hand wet with spit, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

 

 

“Say you’re sorry.” Fucking _what_.

 

 

She sucked the head of his cock one more time, swirling her tongue before pulling away and repeating herself.

 

 

“Say it.” He must’ve grimaced or moaned or _something_ because she posed her mouth in a coy little grin as she rubbed his cock sweetly on her cheek. “Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you cum all on my face.” He could’ve sworn she bit her lip and moaned at the thought. She _fucking did_. “Or I’ll guzzle it all up. Your pick. Just two little words.” She fucking _winked_ at him.

 

_Well shit._

He really liked both of those options. And he _was_ …..sorry. Or whatever. But he didn’t like these circumstances. She had a good hand but he didn’t want her to _play_ it.

 

 

So he decided to grab her and pull her back against his front, clutching the column of her throat in his huge hand, thrusting once against her backside before dropping a light kiss on her cheek. “I’m fucking sorry. There.”

 

 

“Ooooh, fuck!”she wailed as he pressed into her from behind, filling her up to the brim. His other hand went to thrum at her clit, rubbing her pussy faster with every pump of his cock.

 

 

“That’s right, kitten. Tell me I don’t know you,” he bit into her neck, sucking on every inch of skin he could access. He could feel her little cunt clenching him tighter and tighter, nearing closer to her climax.

 

 

His thighs were going to be raw tomorrow with how deep her fingernails were digging into him.

 

 

“Your turn,” he rasped into her ear in between his own grunts of approval every time his hips snapped against her ass. “Say it. Tell me who this pussy belongs to.”

 

 

Would she say it? He thought she might not until she let her head fall back onto his shoulder. “Dameron?” One rough hand slid from her neck to her hip and squeezed in warning.

 

 

“No, never,” she moaned, eyes closed tight, and he brought his hand down in a _smack_ against her cunt. She whined and shivered as he soothed the smart. He grinned. Never?

 

 

“Tell me whose it is. Say it.” He slapped again and she gripped like a vice around his length. She needed to hurry….

 

 

“Yours, baby!” He spanked her pussy again and felt her start to cream on his cock. It sounded like she was fucking crying. _Shit_.

 

 

“Again,” Jesus, he was almost out of breath, “whose pussy is this, kitten?”

 

 

“Yours! God, yours!” She opened her eyes then, and he just _knew_. He leaned down to roughly claim her mouth and tongue with his, groaning into her mouth with his own release.

 

 

They fell back into the mess of white hotel sheets and overfilled pillows and didn’t say another word.

 

 

Hours later, when she was in the shower, Kylo braced himself against the sink, brushing his teeth. He spat out the toothpaste, rinsed his mouth out with a cup of water.

 

“Hey, sweetheart?” He saw her through the glass, scrubbing her hands through her hair.

 

 

“Yeah?” Here went nothing.

 

 

“What’s your…uh….favorite color?”

 

 

Her response was a burst of laughter, and he hurled his toothbrush into the sink bowl and huffed back out into the bedroom, her apologies only audible through the stream of giggles that flowed around them.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

He was used to seeing her thumbs flying over her smartphone. Talking to her _friends_. Who she was now convinced knew nothing of her previous employer’s schemes.

 

 

He didn’t buy it for _shit_.

 

 

But they made his little hellcat happy, so fuck it.

 

 

She had told him her friends thought she was running from her problems. Apparently all she’d told them was Leia had pissed her off and left it at that. Maybe she’d told them she had company. Maybe she hadn’t.

 

 

But she hadn’t made a move to leave again. He still didn’t know why. Her name was in the clear. She had no reason to be on the run. It sure as hell wasn’t because he had asked her to stay.

 

 

And yet here they were in a line at Wal-Mart, him watching as she bit her lip and responded with fervor to a recent text. He fought the need to roll his eyes at the whole situation. Illinois wasn’t _exactly_ where he had dreamed of retiring. But it wasn’t _awful._ It was easy to lay low, to stay at the same hotel for days, even weeks at a time. Plus, this was the _best_ fucking Super Wal-Mart he’d ever witnessed. Hell, it had been the first he’d ever been in. Because of it, he’d found he was quite fond of Fruit of the Loom V-necks, and he really thought the black ones played a part in getting him laid, so here they were. Buying fucking shirts that came in a bag and a gallon of ice cream for Rey.

 

 

He saw it then.

 

 

Right under Home & Gardens and Oprah. A fucking newspaper. With his mother splashed across the front cover.

 

**_Multi-Million Deal of the Century Revealed. Exclusive interview with America’s #1 Female Mogul Inside!_ **

 

 

“Shit.” Rey turned around at his voice, eyes still on her phone. He grabbed the paper and put it in the cart. When she finally realized what he’d spotted, the smartphone clattered to the tile and _shattered_. At least one good thing had come out of this trip, he surmised.

 

* * *

 

  

_Four months after the death of Edmund Snoke, CEO of The First Order aeronautical engineering company and lead producer of series H-773 jet crafts, new ground is breaking. Investigators have now determined the tragedy was the outcome of a death by suicide event, likely caused by heavy workloads and lack of social interaction. Mr. Snoke has no surviving family, and employers have reported to have only contacted him via telecommunication devices. The First Order currently lies in the hands of an Armitage Hux._

 

_Or does it?_

_We are excited at New America Leader (NAL) to be the first to announce the merging of The First Order and its long-standing, high-revenue opponent, The Resistance, the FO’s leading opponent for the past ten plus years. This collaboration, announced Saturday via internet and television streaming, has been verified by Leia Organa-Solo herself. NAL was fortunate to acquire an interview with the mogul herself, days after the deal of the century broke._

_When asked why the sudden putting aside of ways occurred, Mrs. Organa-Solo answered easily._

_“It was such a tragedy, what happened,” Mrs. Organa-Solo. She spoke very emotionally, and it was evident the CEO was saddened by the sudden death of Mr. Snoke, long-time rivalry forgotten. “We started our businesses around the same time. We didn’t always see eye to eye but we always had respect for each other and what the other had built. When Hux asked to meet privately to discuss the future of our businesses, I was very open.”_

_And of course she should have been. Without the guidance and expertise of the late Snoke, reports were abound that First Order production had been significantly dropping and the future of the company as a whole teetered on the edge._

_“I offered to help in anyway,” spoke Mrs. Organa-Solo, “Hux mentioned partnering, and I couldn’t say no, could I?”_

Rey’s hand reached out and snatched the paper out of his hands from where she had been reading over his shoulder. The offending piece of literature was balled up and promptly thrown into the bin in their hotel.

 

Kylo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was reading that.”

 

 

“It doesn’t matter. Suicide!? Fucking _merging?_ _Do_ you know what this means?” She was smiling from ear to ear, and he could see every little fucking cute dimple in her face. Apparently the ruthless, lying sack of shit he had as a mother’s actions hadn’t surprised her. Shouldn’t have surprised him either. Or maybe they should’ve. He didn’t know what to fucking _think_.

 

 

But he knew exactly what it meant.

 

 

It meant she wasn’t as much of a sack of shit she’d always been. In a way.

 

 

It meant they were free.

 

 

Rey pounced on his lap, wrapping her lean legs around his frame, her arms around his neck.

 

 

 _Damn_. The beginnings of his smirk grew until he was practically fucking  _beaming_.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

She’d been running both fucking companies like a true professional with both hands tied behind her back. She made this shit look easy.

 

 

Leia Organa-Solo sat propped back in one of her plush, leather chairs she’d ordered from Von Mar a month ago. Nearly two years since taking over the First Order. She had a glass of pinot in her hand.

 

 

God, she was good.

 

 

Some squirmy looking intern burst through her door then, interrupting her one _minute_ of downtime. Even _she_ needed a break sometimes. Especially from fucking _interns_.

 

 

“Yes?” she drawled out, bored already.

 

 

The poor kid murmured “mail”, and dropped a hefty array of Manila folders and envelopes onto her desk then practically sprinted out.

 

 

Why did Dameron _hire_ these imbeciles? Honestly. He could’ve at least brought a coffee _with_ the mail. She’d talk to him about this later.

 

 

Leia tossed back the rest of her wine and sorted through the stack. She stopped short when she came to a cream-colored envelope, “ _Leia”_ scrawled in elegant cursive across the front, along with the address of The First Resistance (it had a nice ring to, after all). There was no return address.

 

 

Intrigued, she ran a manicured nail under the flap, opening the envelope perfectly in one swipe.

 

 

She pulled out a stock card. If she’d been drinking wine in the moment, she would have choked.

 

 

It was a picture of an infant, swaddled tight in a blue crocheted blanket, its tiny mouth open in a captured yawn, its eyes closed tight. The baby had a headful of black hair. The resemblance was indisputable.

 

 

In white lettering, near the bottom of the photograph, letters spelled out _B. II._

 

“Leia, First Order rats are ready for the briefing. Heads up, Phas is being a real _bitch_ today.” God, she _hated_ this intercom system. Scared her shitless every time.

 

“Be right there, Dameron,” she drawled as she pressed the button to talk, rolling her eyes. She opened the bottom drawer in her desk and delicately deposited the photograph.

 

 

She sat back in her chair for a minute. Then two. If one looked closely, a smile could be seen playing on Leia Organa-Solo’s lips.

 

 

She leaned forward and hit the intercom again. “All right, Dameron. Send them in.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> annnnnd FINITO
> 
> m'kay hear me out. so some probs wanted Leia to die by fire, but I mean...she got a pic of a reylo grand baby and is like aw, but she will never be a part of its life likely because, well, yeah...so....that'll probably suck for her. just saying.
> 
> I'm a sucker for a happy ending, I can't help it. sorry there wasn't like, all the smut, but....hope you liked a little?
> 
> but truly. thanks to each and every person who commented, kudo'd, bookmarked, and read this first series of mine. it means so much I could cry. 
> 
> gonna go have a beer instead. love youuuuuuu xoxoxoxo

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think, your comments and suggestions are like those little fudge samples they give out at fudge shops by the beach that you greedily take and smash into your face. You know? xoxo


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